


Smoke

by demiclar



Series: Dare to Dream [3]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: A bunch of angst, Cannon Typical Violence, Destiny 2 Forsaken, Graphic Description of Wounds, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Outing, Panic Attacks, Season of the Forge, Stoneborn Order reimagined, The lead-up and aftermath of a military blunder, Titans on the wall, Will add tags as updated, fallen/eliksni attacks, mentioned rape, mentioned sexual assault, tw - lot o blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:36:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28498422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demiclar/pseuds/demiclar
Summary: Edon is a commander in the Stoneborn Titan Order, tasked with protecting the City and its walls at all costs. He's only failed in that mission twice before, once when the City fell, and once when he nearly opened it up to fall again. Responsibility can be crippling, and Edon knows that better than most.
Relationships: Male Guardian/Male Guardian (Destiny)
Series: Dare to Dream [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1828261
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6
Collections: Fireteam Aadya





	1. Beneath the Weight of the Earth

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! I'm so excited to finally start posting this! If you're new to me, you might want to check out the first two works in this series called Stitches, and Scars. They'll introduce the characters to you, but it's by no means necessary. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> (Updates hopefully at the beginning of every month but we'll see.)
> 
> Also, this gets progressively worse each chapter, so please read the tags for trigger warnings. Tags are updated as chapters are released.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings (spoiler alert) - outing, panic attacks

> “It’s easy to break beneath the weight of the earth.”
> 
> -Anyway, by Noah Kahan

Torak found Edon atop one of the taller Tower buildings. He was seated at the very edge, his legs dangling over the side of the roof as he stared out at the wilds beyond the City, towards his first and greatest military failure.

The scent hit him as soon as he stepped onto the roof, or climbed really. He had to haul himself up onto the lip of it, using his Light to give himself a last little boost. There wasn’t even a ladder leading up here, just a window ledge and a drainpipe some ten feet below. A Hunter’s perch, no doubt. Thankfully, they were staying far away from the rooftop now, whether they’d seen Edon or sensed his roiling light, Torak didn’t know. Or, they’d smelled what he had. Even with the wind rolling off the wilds and over the Tower, it hung thick in the air, smoke of some city grown plant, some drug Torak didn’t care enough to identify. From the thickness of it, Edon had to have been up here for a while, and he was very likely high off his head on it.

Edon already looked awful, too. Even from behind him, Torak could see his armor was riddled with cracks and dents and bullet holes, scorched in places and torn in others. Below it, he was covered in blood and sweat. Crimson was smeared on the back of his neck, old and crusted now, matching the dry handprints and smears that dotted his armor where he’d held his own wounds or had been grabbed by others. It was even smeared on the lip of the roof where he sat, dry now, but it must’ve been fresh when he’d sat down. Even below the surface, Torak could feel his Light was worse for wear, too. Stinging from pain and overuse, what wasn’t roaring with anger was limp and tired, exhausted and sad, humiliated, even.

But if Edon had come up here to smoke and be alone…well, his work was certainly cut out for him.

Edon said nothing as Torak crossed the little roof to meet him. He didn’t even look up as he seated himself beside him and assessed the other Titan with a wary gaze. His Light was already weak, even sitting here was a gamble. This was worse than he’d thought.

“You here to break up with me?” Edon asked him dryly. His whole face looked dead, there were bags under his eyes and cuts and bruises marring his face, a world away from the life he’d seen in him only a few days before, when they’d last been together. Even after one of his two week shifts on the front the Titans guarded around the City, he’d been more alive than this.

His words didn’t surprise Torak, not much. He was angry, wrapped so tight in self-loathing that he probably didn’t feel like he deserved his relationship with Torak. He’d actually expected to be broken up with when he’d come out onto the roof, not that he would have accepted it in Edon’s current state. What surprised him was the fact that Edon wasn’t moving to do it himself.

Torak knew it wasn’t a time for humor, but it was almost funny to look back on them. Months ago, when they’d first gotten together, Edon had seemed so dominant and confident in the relationship that even the aspect of Torak breaking up with him would have been comical. But over their time together, he’d grown into it. Stone by stone, he’d taken down his walls to let Edon in, and with every advance he’d led, he’d felt more and more like an equal, on par with someone like Edon.

“No.” He answered, his voice firm enough that he left no room for argument, but Edon only let out a humorless, bitter little laugh.

“Traveler, I don’t deserve you.” He said, but his tone was sharp, angry, full of such hatred Torak hardly recognized the man sitting next to him.

“You should just get it over with.” He continued, as if he hadn’t heard Torak speak even after he’d responded to his words. “Zavala will be demoting me in a few hours, why not join the party? Don’t hold back.”

He lifted his blunt to his lips, drawing a breath deep enough that he actually coughed, and Torak wrinkled his nose at the scent he sent spilling from his lungs when he did.

“I’m not here to break up with you.” He said, and he had to resist the urge to grab the smoking roll from Edon’s hand and grind it into the rooftop beside him as the other Titan turned to look at him and sent a mouthful of smoke into his face. “Where did you even get that, anyways?”

Edon shrugged, looking down at the roll and then back out at the wilds beyond. “Drifter has some contacts.” He answered simply, and Torak raised a brow.

“What, so Drifter is your drug dealer now?” He questioned, and Edon scowled at his tone.

“It’s not like he’s about to rat me out to the Vanguard.” Edon shot back, and Torak conceded. Still, for smoking, Torak didn’t think anyone would. But he let the thought go. He had never minded if Edon wanted the occasional smoke, and he had supported him every time he’d mentioned quitting, but it wasn’t his place to judge him for it. Certainly not now.

“If you’re not here to break up with me, what are you here for?” Edon asked him after a moment, his voice having quieted down a bit.

Torak didn’t answer, just set his right hand down beside Edon’s left, an open invitation that symbolized everything they were. Combining their weaknesses to become something stronger. Edon’s shoulders shook a little as he drew in a deep breath, this time with the blunt still resting down at the lip of the roof, still held between his fingers.

“Did you see what I did?” He breathed; his voice deathly quiet.

Torak nodded. He’d flown over the site on his way back into the city. As soon as he’d heard Edon’s squadron had been attacked, he’d left Damian and Tessa in the EDZ to return home. They’d been clearing out the Black Armory forge that had been overrun by cabal, but Torak knew the two of them could handle it themselves. He hadn’t asked for the details of what had happened, hadn’t wanted to waste the time. Edon would tell him himself if he wanted to.

“All of my militia fighters are in the hospital.” Edon murmured, and when Torak looked up, he saw he was shaking. “I don’t know if they’re all going to make it.”

He ground the blunt into the lip of the roof beside him with a too-forceful movement, his whole body tensing as his eyes turned glassy and his breathing became uneven.

“It’s all my fault. They could die and it’s my fault.”

Torak said nothing as Edon met his gaze again, as his tears clung to his eyelids, just seconds from spilling over. He couldn’t tell him it would be okay, couldn’t make that promise. He couldn’t tell him it wasn’t his fault when they both knew he’d messed up. He only watched as the first tear fell and he leaned forward to kiss it ever so softly as it streaked down Edon’s cheek.

“I’m with you.” He breathed, cupping Edon’s cheek in a hand, trailing his thumb over the track the tear had left. “No matter what happens, I’m here with you.”

* * *

_ 3 Days Earlier _

“Edon.” Zavala’s voice greeted him as soon as he entered the man’s office, the soft rush of the fountain behind him still filling the space as the door slid closed behind him. Ahead of him, the morning light streaming through the wall of floor to ceiling windows was entirely too bright for his exhausted eyes, but he plastered as pleasant of an expression as he could manage onto his face as he descended the steps into the office, towards where Zavala waited at his great desk. He’d done this dozens of times by now, Zavala was already well familiar with his exhausted demeanor after he spent two weeks on the eastern front. He wasn’t the type of man to take it as a personal affront, either.

“I trust your rotation went well?” Zavala asked him as he took up his usual place before Zavala’s desk.

“Yes, Sir.” Edon responded, as he always did. “We had a few skirmishes, and the troops are tired, but no non-guardian injuries.” He recalled to the Commander, all of which he’d already filed and reported on during his quiet hours on the front.

“Yes.” Zavala agreed. “I’ve read your reports. Exemplary conduct as usual.” He told him, and Edon gave him an appreciative nod.

“Thank you, Sir.” He replied, “Which sector would you like me to post the squadron this week?”

Edon led one of eight squadrons of Titans and city militia within the Stoneborn Order tasked with the defense of the walls and the outposts surrounding the City. Together, they worked in a four-week rotation where each squadron would spend two weeks at an outpost beyond the city, and two weeks on the city walls following the outposts, one guarding during the day and the other during the nights and post transitions. They all worked together in groups of two squadrons, staggered to ensure there was always only two squadrons transitioning from the wall to the front or vice versa at the end of any given week.

Edon’s squadron, the 101 st , had just completed their rotation on the front, and would be allowed a full day to rest before they guarded the wall for two weeks. After every two weeks on the front, Edon would report to Zavala to debrief on his time in the field, and to inquire about which sector his squadron was to take on the wall. Normally, he’d be in this little meeting with Tarakash, the lieutenant in charge of the 36 th squadron which had been paired with Edon’s 101 st for as long as he could remember, their rotations always remaining the same. The fact that he hadn’t showed yet hadn’t surprised Edon much, it certainly wouldn’t have been the first time either one of them had been late getting off the front.

Zavala raised a brow at his question, glancing up from the datapad he’d been typing on.

“Did you not receive my message?” He asked, and Edon was already dreading what it could have been. Zavala never used the Tower messaging database to communicate their posts, even when they were fairly regular. The orders were always given in person, like this, so the message could only have mentioned something was not happening according to plan.

“Message, Sir?” He was already reaching out to speak to his Ghost, but Zavala filled him in before he could.

“Lyra is needed on the field in the EDZ, and Evered has taken leave for the rotation.” He explained, naming the lieutenant in charge of the 57 th squadron and her Second. Edon’s stomach was already dropping at the words. Normally, the 36 th normally switched with the 57 th , but if both of its highest-ranking members were absent, it wouldn’t be making the rotation out to the front. Perhaps Tarakash hadn’t been late to this meeting after all.

“Given that the 101 st has more experience than the 36 th , I’m sending your squadron to the western outpost for a second rotation to allow the 36 th to rest.” Zavala finished, knowing full well Edon had already put together everything in between. His stomach dropped to his knees.

“Sir, my troops are exhausted.” He said, nearly interrupting the man. At the frown Zavala gave him when he spoke, he instantly regretted his wording, but he owed it to his troops to push forward regardless. “The 101 st went through at least five more skirmishes than the 36 th .” He explained to Zavala. It was expected of him to know what was going on at all the other outposts at any time, but he’d never expected to use the information in this way. “We hardly slept the whole rotation, and we haven’t been stationed at the Western outpost in over a year. If we make contact with the Fallen, we’ll be at an extreme disadvantage.”

Zavala fixed him with a look that was not up for negotiation. “Your squadron is perhaps the best in the Order.” Zavala reminded him, and Edon felt his face flush, but not from the praise. “I trust you will be able to hold your position for the next two weeks, and I believe you will benefit from the experience. You are to depart immediately. Go inform your team. Dismissed.”

Two hours later, he was sitting among his grumbling command staff in the cramped meeting room in the center building of the Western outpost. Five veteran level Titans dressed in matching white, red and gold armor, all with a white marking of a roaring lioness on their biceps to mark their squadron, and two thick white lines resting just beneath to mark their positions. Each Titan was the leader of a squad of ten, each with a Second to help them lead them, now scattered across the Western outpost, each squad taking up one building, each about a mile apart. The Titans made up Edon’s own squad of seven, and his own Second stood just beside him. The marking on their bicep matched his own arm, as on theirs, the lioness’s maw dripped red, and they bore two short lines of red, one on either side of the lion’s face. Still, his Second’s marking also matched with the rest of the command staff’s, bearing the same two white lines beneath the lioness, while Edon’s own bicep bore three lines, two of white and one of gold at the bottom.

His Second was reaching down to where he sat now, and he glanced up as they gripped his shoulder, a slight twinkle in their eye. His Second was a relatively young but incredibly promising Awoken Titan woman named Amaya, who could fight like a storm and could lead like she’d been born into it. She was strong and competent and calm, and could level his head like no one else Edon had ever met. She was adaptable and inspiring and Edon was sure there was no one else like her, and no one else more perfect to lead by his side.

Quite frankly, they fit together so well, half the squadron already believed they were romantically involved, unbeknownst to the squadron that neither had a single straight bone in their body. Amaya had actually been the first member of his squadron he’d actually come out to, completely by accident. During a skirmish with the Fallen, he’d made a comment about one of the other lieutenant’s fighting prowess, and had then turned it into a vaguely sexual joke. Amaya had laughed at him, and in his embarrassment, she’d told him she’d known for a while, and had come out in return. Since then, they’d been close friends and easy confidants. Torak might’ve owned his heart and soul, but he’d never let anything happen to Amaya.

He glanced up when she gripped his shoulder, pausing in his briefing of the command staff, dictating which squad would hold which building, as well as inquiring about the state of the teams. The Guardians, he knew, would manage. With their Ghosts, they would be tired but not heavily impaired. The militia, however, could be worse for wear. In the fifty-two person squadron, twenty of its members were city militia, human fighters Ghostless and Lightless, but still among the strongest warriors Edon had ever fought beside. Sending them out onto a second rotation on the front, however, was not something Edon would call safe.

“There’s someone waiting for you outside.” Amaya told him, pulling him back to the present with a squeeze of his shoulder. “I can handle the rest of the meeting.”

She stepped aside when he thanked her and stood, and he took a step towards the door before glancing back at the staff.

“Have all of your militia fighters take the rest of the day and night to rest. Don’t disturb them until seven tomorrow morning.” He told the squad leaders. “If they don’t get enough sleep, I’m sending them back to the City.”

The squad leaders didn’t object, and all acknowledged him with their own ‘yes sir’s, and with a nod to his second, he ducked out of the room. Four steps brought him down the short hallway, past the little room he and Amaya would share as a quarters for the next two weeks, with the squad’s bunk room and bathroom taking up the other side of the building across from the meeting room, the second bathroom, and his and Amaya’s quarters. Five more steps and his helmet was in his hands as he pushed his way out the back door, steeling his spine for whoever could possibly be waiting for him outside.

Only, he took one more step and his whole body melted at the familiar light beyond him, and a grin was on his face as he stepped into the bright, mid-morning sunlight and he beheld the familiar man leaning casually against a sparrow just a few yards from the back door. A titan, dressed in sturdy armor, their helmet on, though it quickly transmatted away as soon as the door clicked shut behind him.

“You didn’t show up at home this morning,” Torak said, uncrossing his arms to hold Edon’s waist as he walked straight into his space. “I was starting to worry.”

His tone was teasing, but his words filled Edon with a warmth that surged through his chest and sent his solar light bubbling as he leaned in to plant a kiss on his lover’s lips. Home. He’d nearly forgotten. On the last week of his rotation on the wall three weeks ago, Torak had moved into his apartment, meaning they were now completely officially living together, even if Edon did have to spend half his time away from home.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He hummed against Torak’s lips. Torak had been the second person he’d contacted after his meeting with Zavala that morning, the first being Amaya, whom he’d given the dreaded task of contacting the squad leaders with the news of the change in plans. “It’s good to see you.”

He hadn’t seen Torak in two weeks. They usually called while he was out on the front, and sometimes he dared the occasional visit like this one, but it was never really enough for either of them. What made up for it was his day off, where they’d spend the whole day in bed, even if Edon usually ended up sleeping for most of it. That day was supposed to be today, and Edon had been nothing short of pissed when he’d realized that not only would he have to spend another two weeks on the front, but that it would also be a full fourteen days until he could feel Torak’s lips on his own, his hands on his body.

He shoved his mind quickly out of that place before he could weigh the risks of pulling Torak into his and Amaya’s shared quarters. He would  _ not  _ break that quickly, and he certainly wasn’t keen to know what the punishments might be if he did.

“It’s good to see you, too.” Torak murmured back as they parted, his hands still remaining on Edon’s waist. It had been Edon’s usual position when they’d first gotten together, a safe place for him to set his hands and leave them there until Torak was ready to tell him he was comfortable with them in other places. Since they’d gotten more physical, and Torak had grown more comfortable and confident, Torak had started adopting such positions. Even now, he was seated sideways on his sparrow, sitting back with his legs spread wide enough to accommodate Edon between them, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t drive him wild.

“I can’t believe Zavala’s putting you back on the front again.” Torak continued, and Edon lifted his gaze over Torak’s shoulder to where the Wall loomed a few miles away.

“I know.” He said, and it was more of a grumble as the words came out. He’d explained the whole thing to Torak in the message he’d left him that morning. Torak had written back a short response promising it would be fine and that they’d find a way to make up for the lost time together. He’d even suggested Edon take his next rotation to the outpost off and let Amaya handle the squadron. As much as Edon hated leaving her on her own, a little vacation would be good for him, and with the Black Armory developments happening in the EDZ and beyond, he might have to leave the front whether he wanted it or not.

“I’m just worried about the militia.” He told Torak, “They need their time off a lot more than anyone else. If they got hurt because they were overworked…” he trailed off, his gaze dropping down to Torak’s chest. He already knew Edon would be livid if that was the result of Zavala’s orders, even if he couldn’t speak publicly about it.

“I know.” Torak promised, and he planted a kiss on Edon’s jaw, brushing his lips against the thick stubble that usually grew in the two weeks on the front when he didn’t feel he had the time to shave. Had he been home, he would have showered already—probably with Torak—and he’d have shaved the mess away already, not that Torak had ever seemed to mind it.

“They trust you.” Torak reminded him gently, and Edon practically melted into him when one of his hands moved to run up his spine. After two weeks of being taught and alert on the front, his whole body was sore and achy. He’d do anything to soak in a hot bath and let Torak rub the tension from his body. “I know you’re going to figure it out.” Torak continued, and Edon drew his attention back to the present. “It’ll be alright.”

Usually, Torak was a man of few words. He was more comfortable in silence than anyone Edon knew, and he preferred to observe everything before he set forth his own views or thoughts. When it came to speaking, Edon had realized, he saved his words for important things, often surfacing in praise or reassurance for Edon, or for communication with his teammates. He’d even dabbled in the sign language Hunters often used to communicate, and had been nothing short of thrilled to learn Edon already knew a good bit of it from his sister.

He’d also learned that Torak’s words were all the more effective in places Edon didn’t expect them to be. With the right pressure, he could even use them to take Edon apart, piece by piece. But that was neither here nor there. Certainly not here.

“Thank you.” Edon murmured in response, making the considerable effort to untangle his mind from those dark corners he so badly wanted to get caught up in. Torak must’ve realized the thoughts he was causing as a small grin crept over his face and Edon flushed so heavily he had to set his head down against Torak’s chest to hide his face. Mercifully though, Torak’s hands returned to his hips and stilled, holding him steady, without provocation.

“I wish I could go home with you.” He breathed to Torak, hands pressed flat against the heavy plate on his chest, fingers running over the fine ridges.

“I wish you could, too.” Torak told him. “I’ve missed you. But I’ll call you tonight and we can talk more. When are you free?”

Edon shook his head against Torak’s chest, a pathetic movement that earned a chuckle from his lover.

“I don’t know.” He said, almost a whine as he raised his head. “I haven’t set up a schedule yet.”

Normally, he’d have created one a week ago at least, a whole organized document he’d send to his whole staff, as well as Zavala and the other lieutenants. It would dictate which squads would patrol which areas at what times, and who would be posted at the lookout towers when. He’d already started one, recycling an old one from a few rotations ago that had worked well for them on the eastern outpost, but it was impossible to keep everything the same and still have the team benefit. The western outpost was unfamiliar to him, he had no idea which squad would be better suited where, or how to play to the strengths of their team in the unfamiliar terrain. They’d already mastered the northern and eastern outposts. Edon knew who liked to be where down to the individual fireteam members, and could use the information to place them in spots where he could ensure their safety while still giving them the opportunity to learn and adapt, but this? He didn’t even know where to start.

“I’ll call you.” He promised Torak. He would figure the schedule out with Amaya soon. “Eleven o’clock. But that’s subject to change.”

“I’ll keep my channel clear.” His lover promised with a broad grin, “but if you’re still awake at eleven, I’ll be thoroughly impressed.” He told him, and Edon gave him a weak shove even though he was completely right. While on rotation, Edon hardly got any decent sleep. It was really a wonder he hadn’t passed out already.

“Jerk.” He shot back, but he was grinning too, and he leaned into him to plant another kiss to his lips. “Thanks for coming.” He told him against his lips. “I should go.”

Torak hummed in response, but slid a hand up to the back of his neck once he’d pulled away, bringing him back into one final kiss, deep and slow, before he lightly pushed him away, back towards the building behind him.

“Talk to you later?” Torak asked him as Edon stepped back a few steps, if only to keep himself from grabbing Torak again. His helmet was in his hands as he stood and mounted his sparrow.

“Yeah.” Edon confirmed with a nod, and Torak pulled his helmet onto his head. “Talk to you later.”

Edon watched Torak zip back towards the City walls until he was out of sight, and with a heavy sigh, he raised his chin and rallied his willpower to lead his squadron through another two long weeks on the front.

Edon waited an hour before making the rounds. He gave himself an hour of planning, looking over maps of the area and schematics of the outpost’s buildings with Amaya before he headed out to see them himself. Leaving Amaya at the base, he hopped onto his sparrow and headed South. He’d hardly left before his comms chirped in the earpiece of his helmet and Amaya’s voice was sounding in his ear.

“So,” She was saying, and Edon could already tell from her tone that she wasn’t about to speak about the squadron. “Was Torak mad he isn’t going to be able to get some for the next two weeks?”

Edon nearly laughed, only he had to swerve to avoid a tree that must’ve popped out of the ground only just then. Instead, he only gave a little cough.

“This is our private channel, right?” He asked, and Amaya made an indignant noise.

“Yes.” She shot at him, “and I’m on the roof so Echo won’t hear me.” She also probably had her helmet on, if the clearness of her voice was any indication, not to mention helmets were required outdoors. He’d already broken that rule earlier with Torak, but given that he was now serving an extra, unscheduled two weeks on the front, he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty. Echo was the only squad Amaya would have to worry about being heard by, their group of most experienced fighters, positioned at the center of the outpost to give them a sturdy hold over the space. They’d fan out across the front if necessary, but the center was the best place for them most of the time, and splitting up squads was rarely a good idea. 

“Honestly, you get so paranoid,” Amaya continued, “every time I mention Torak, you seem to lose faith in me, not that I can imagine why.”

Only Amaya would ever speak to him that way, and only in private, though she’d certainly earned the right to do so. She was right, of course, he did get paranoid, and he didn’t have much reason to. Amaya could keep secrets better than the dead, and she probably guarded his with her life, no matter who she was keeping them from.

“You’re right.” He admitted, navigating his sparrow to the unguarded side of the outpost, steering towards the woods just west of him.

The western outpost was built on a small rise at the beginning of a break in the forest to the west of the City. He’d never liked the post. It required stealth, and the ability to see through it when patrolling and guarding the area. Edon’s team was better at force. While the eastern outpost was built on a high hill with a good view of the surrounding ridges, the area beyond the western outpost was hidden in the woods that covered miles of area beyond the spread of buildings. Even the lookout towers that had been built around the buildings didn’t give them much visibility of the surrounding area, and he’d hardly been able to see through the canopy of the forest when he’d climbed up to judge the view from them.

“I am paranoid.” He agreed, speaking a tad slowly as he navigated his sparrow into the woods and through the trees. “But I do have faith in your abilities, I just worry when it comes to Torak.”

On the other side of the radio, Amaya let out a little huff, and Edon could hear the sound of her shuffling around.

“Fine.” She told him, “I’ll accept that. But you didn’t answer my question.” She reminded, and Edon let out his own little huff.

“He wasn’t.” He told her finally, “he seemed a little upset that I wouldn’t be home, but if anything, it was the other way around. He caught onto me pretty quick, though. He’ll probably be teasing me about it for the whole rotation.”

Amaya laughed, and Edon knew that she probably would be too, but he could handle that. They did it to one another on every rotation they went on, really. Whenever they were in their quarters at the same time, lying awake because they could hardly shrug off their responsibilities for a few hours to sleep even when everything was being handled, they’d ask one another about their lovers, ask if they were thinking about them, dreaming about their hands or mouths or more. Edon shoved the thoughts from his mind with a shake of his head.

“What about Lumina?” He asked. “Have you talked to her yet?”

Lumina was Amaya’s girlfriend, a warlock that could give his own warlock clanmates a run for their money—not that he would ever tell them that. She was a genius, and spent most of her time researching the Hive on Titan or Mars or the moon. She and Amaya coordinated their schedules as best they could, trying to be home at the Tower for the same two weeks at a time, but Edon knew it sometimes just wasn’t that simple.

“No, not yet.” Amaya answered, and her voice fell a little in disappointment. “I sent her a message earlier this morning, but she isn’t supposed to be back at the Tower until tomorrow night, and she hasn’t responded to me yet. Even her Ghost is too busy to send a message back.”

“I’m sorry.” Edon told her, and Amaya told him not to worry about it, as she usually did. “If you wanted her to come by for a little just to say hello, I’d cover for you.” He told her. They weren’t technically allowed to have anyone not within the Order present at any of the outposts, except during an emergency. The rule was lax enough that no one would act on it unless someone caused trouble for the Order while they were at any particular outpost, but he had always been careful to keep any meetings with Torak at the outpost short, and Amaya always covered for him when Torak was there, keeping the rest of the squadron well away from them until Torak had gone. It was the least he could do to make the offer to do the same for her, even if she’d already refused numerous times before.

“Thanks.” Amaya said, “But I doubt Lum will be in the mood for a meet and greet type visit. I’ll ask her, though.”

“Good.” Edon answered. Amaya and Lumina were good together, he knew that much, but time apart always had a way of putting stress on their relationship, and he doubted either of them would be thrilled with spending a whole month apart, even if the two were wrapped up in their own work.

“I’ll let you know what she says.” Amaya promised, then drew in a deep breath, “But let’s not talk about me.” She told him, and Edon recognized her telltale way of explaining to him that things weren’t exactly great for her right now, but that she’d talk to him about it later if she was able.

“Did you make Zavala mad at your meeting earlier? Where did this rotation even come from?” She asked him, completely switching the subject from anything that could have been considered just two friends chatting. He didn’t mind it, though, even as he let out a little sigh.

He hadn’t taken the time to explain to them why they were running a second rotation immediately after just finishing one on the front. He’d only promised his staff that they’d receive the explanation later, and had rushed to coordinate everything they’d need for the two weeks he hadn’t had time to plan for. They still didn’t even have food yet, and he was sure the rest of the squadron was already getting hungry. He certainly was.

“Lyra got sent to the EDZ suddenly. She’s probably helping clean up the Black Armory mess.” He recalled, knowing Amaya would recognize the name of the 57 th ’s lieutenant. Half his friends were in the EDZ already dealing with the Black Armory, despite Ada-1’s distaste for Guardians. Torak was already helping out the rest of his fireteam to secure their forges. It would only be a matter of time before he had to go help them out as well.

“What about Evered?” Amaya questioned, and Edon was a little surprised she didn’t already know. He’d always thought the Seconds of the Order’s lieutenants were relatively close. Amaya had mentioned a group chat to him a few times before.

“He’s on leave.” He answered, and he had no doubt Amaya was rolling her eyes as she let out her breath in a huff.

“Of course he is.” She muttered. “Why not just take one of the squadrons off the wall? He could have rotated the 92 nd early.”

The 92 nd squadron normally rotated a week before the 101 st , and usually took the South or West outposts. The 101 st spent the first week of their rotation guarding the outposts with them at the same time, until they rotated out at the beginning of their second week. They’d already been holding the wall for a week, and could have easily taken the loss of just a week of rest to rejoin the rotation in the 57 th ’s place.

“I thought about that, too.” Edon told her, pausing for a moment to navigate his sparrow out of the trees as he was headed towards an area so dense he wasn’t sure he had the prowess to navigate the vehicle through the forest. “I almost brought it up, but after I told him we were all tired and that he should send out the 36 th again instead of us, I didn’t think he’d be too happy with me if I did.”

“Do you think he’d read it if I sent him a message about it?” Amaya asked him quickly.

“He most definitely would,” Edon answered, “but I’d like to keep my job, so I’d really appreciate it if you did not do that.”

Amaya sighed, but agreed, and Edon heard a smack though the coms that almost sounded like she’d fallen over.

“Fucking Evered.” She breathed, “Once I’m through with him, he’s going to need more leave.” She shot, and Edon laughed.

“Just do it in the Crucible.” He supplied. It had long since been decided that any disagreements within the order were to be worked out within the Crucible. Zavala never acknowledged the fights, but he never condoned them, either. If the confrontations were a long time coming, sometimes whole squadrons would even tune in to watch. The idea had even been raised to put the squadron commanders and their seconds into a doubles tournament as a fundraiser event, but they’d never actually gone through with it. “I’d even join you if you wanted to make it a doubles match.”

“Do you think Lyra deserves it?” Amaya asked. “She probably wasn’t planning to go to the EDZ.”

“She could’ve found a replacement.” He reminded, could have roped one of the other lieutenants into leading her squadron for the rotation if she really was going to be absent for the whole time. Edon had done it before, and whether Amaya accepted their help or not, he always made sure one of the other lieutenants was available to her when he had to go tend to other matters across the system.

“True.” Amaya hummed, “I’ll text Evered.”

There were a few moments of silence before she spoke again.

“You don’t think this a punishment for anything we did, do you?” She asked him, sounding worried enough that it actually made him pause and think.

“No.” He answered after a good moment. He couldn’t think of anything that they’d done wrong, and normally when he or his team messed up, Zavala let him have it loud and clear. He could still remember the time Amaya had accidentally set off an explosion in one of the outpost buildings and Zavala had yelled at him about it for thirty minutes straight. Amaya had been  _ very  _ apologetic about the whole thing, and had even worked alongside the construction team they’d had to bring out to fix the building. Afterwards, Edon had gotten put onto another rotation in place of one of the squad members of another lieutenant’s squadron, and he’d gotten absolute hell for it, but he hadn’t minded taking the fall for Amaya.

“No,” He repeated. “I don’t think so. He even told me ‘exemplary conduct as usual’ so I think we were in the green until I started talking back.”

“What do you think we’re in now?” Amaya dared to ask.

“Yellow.” He answered easily. “But if we mess anything up, I’m sure we’ll be seeing red real quick.”

Amaya let out a sigh that died in a sort of exasperated groan. “This  _ sucks. _ ”

Edon smiled weakly, but he couldn’t agree more. “Yeah.” He breathed, “but we’re going to get through it. Zavala even said he thinks we’re the best squadron in the Order before he sent us all back out here.”

“Some way to treat you best warriors.” Amaya grumbled in response, and Edon chuckled.

“Go check on the squad leads.” He told her, “Then go take a nap or something. I’ll let you know what I’ve got planned for the schedule when I get back.”

“You sure?” She asked him, and he could tell she was sitting up from the rustling in the background. “I could do something else if you wanted me to.”

“No,” Edon said, knowing he’d probably have to convince her anyways. “I think we’re set, unless you want to check on the food. I think Tarakash should be bringing it over, but I wouldn’t say no if you wanted to hustle him a little. He kind of owes it to us.”

Amaya hummed in agreement. “Alright.” She said, “You got it, boss. Call me if you need anything else.”

“Will do.” He promised, and his comms disconnected with a little chirp.

Edon spent the next two hours relearning the western outpost. He visited each of the buildings spread out across the western front, entering each one, checking the state of the facilities and inquiring after the state of the squads. All of them were tired and hungry and none too happy with the change of plans that had landed them out on the front for a second rotation, but he’d been expecting as much. He did what he could to assure them he shared their frustrations before moving onto the next squad.

By the time he’d checked up on all of them and had explored the font thoroughly enough that he felt he could finally work at least somewhat confidently, it was a little after one. When he finally returned to the center building on the outpost, his stomach was more than a little demanding after not eating since the previous evening. He knew his troops felt the same way, and quickly propelled getting their food to the top of his mental priority list. He already had enough challenges as it was, he didn’t want his Squadron’s hunger getting in the way of their fighting abilities.

The problem however, seemed to be in good hands, for as soon as he even mentioned it to Amaya, she had a data tablet in her hands and was telling him Tarakash was supposed to be on his way with their shipment of food any minute. She also requested that her Ghost rudely inquire about what was taking the lieutenant so damn long, which she did without a fuss. In a matter of minutes, two sparrows drew up to the center building, a loaded hovering trailer drawn between them.

“It’s about time.” Edon said by way of greeting as the two riders dismounted their sparrows.

“Alright, gimme a break, will you?” Tarakash told him, and Edon did his best to show he was rolling his eyes beneath his helmet. “It’s supposed to be my day off, too.”

Tarakash was the lieutenant of the 36 th squadron, tall and slimly built for a Titan, though Edon had to admit it did nothing to distract from his clean cut brand of handsomeness. Tarakash was all sharp angles and strong lines, from his sharp jaw to his straight hair and well defined muscles. Normally, Edon could handle him, but given that he’d been allowed the time off that Edon and his entire squadron rightfully deserved, he couldn’t help the growing urge to dull some of his sharp edges.

Thankfully, before he could act poorly, Amaya let out an overly dramatic and far too sarcastic gasp. “We’re taking your day off from you?” She asked Tarakash, her voice practically dripping with sarcasm. “Oh no! Please, do forgive us for this  _ great _ inconvenience!”

A few of the Echo squad members that had come outside to help unload the trailer chuckled, and Edon was glad he had a helmet on to hide his own smile. Tarakash’s Second, Eloy, now moving to help unload the trailer with the squad, wisely kept silent.

“Hey,” Tarakash snapped at Amaya, never one to take any kind of insult lightly. “ _ I’m _ not the one who suggested Zavala rotate you back out to the front.” He protested, and Tarkash’s Second dropped the crate they’d only just picked up from the trailer.

Tarakash froze just a moment after Edon did, and head snapped up to look at Edon as realization kicked in and it took everything in Edon not to grab him by the collar and demand more information. He measured Tarkash’s second’s reaction with a glance. Oh yes, there was more to this, and he needed to know what it was,  _ now. _ Still, he managed a calming breath, stepping back from the trailer without taking anything off it. 

“Come with me.” He told Tarakash, turning on his heel and heading for the building behind him before he could see the other man’s response.

Tarakash was more than a few years older than Edon, and had been a lieutenant for quite a while even before Edon had joined the ranks. He’d tried to pull the superiority card a few times while Edon had been new to the group, but Edon hadn’t tolerated it one bit. It had gotten him into trouble with Zavala more than once, but as soon as the 101 st had shown their true colors and climbed high above Tarakash’s 36 th , the problems had occurred less and less. Now, Edon held that superiority in his spine as he walked straight and didn’t even consider looking back to see if the other Titan was following him.

Only a moment later, they were standing in his and Amaya’s cramped quarters, and Edon was shutting the door securely behind them.

“What do you mean you weren’t the one to suggest sending us back out?” He demanded as soon as he’d locked the bolt into place on the door. “Was there a meeting I wasn’t told about? Did Zavala just decide to take suggestions?”

“I- No, Edon, it’s not like that—'' Tarakash stammered a few times as he shook his head, tearing his gaze quickly away from Edon’s face when his Ghost transmatted his helmet off his head just to allow Tarakash to view the full extent of his anger. He stopped abruptly, dragging a deep breath into his lungs before he removed his own helmet.

“I ended up reporting in early this morning,” He explained, “My troops wanted to get off the front and I knew Zavala would be up already so I ended up heading back to the Tower with Eloy at around five.”

Tarakash was fidgeting, his hands roving over his helmet as he held it in front of him, pressed up against his torso like a comfort device.

“We found him in his office with all the other Lieutenants and Seconds. Everyone but you, Amaya, Lyra and Evered was there.” He continued. “When I asked what was going on he invited us to stay and told us about how Lyra was going to the EDZ and that Evered was on leave and they were trying to figure out who to put onto the front in her place. We weren’t invited to the meeting because Zavala hadn’t even been considering making either one of our squadrons do a double rotation like that.”

“So what made him change his mind?” Edon asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

“The first suggestion was to send Finian and the 92 nd out to hold the post for the rotation, or until Lyra got back, but Finian said something about how he didn’t think his squadron would adapt to the change of plans well. He said that the 101 st was the best squadron in the Order and that if anyone could handle some extra work it would be you. He also said that you’d probably be going to the EDZ soon too, and that it would be better if you did another shift on the front so that the 101 st would be back on the wall by the time you had to leave.”

Edon’s eyes narrowed. As the leader of the 92 nd and one of his fellow lieutenants, Edon had never had any problem with Finian, not that he could say he particularly liked the guy, either. But Edon had always believed the lieutenants had a sense of honor and duty, especially when it came to one another. He’d always believed Finian subscribed to that particular belief, but he must’ve understood what he’d been causing in suggesting the 101 st take the front again. And how had he convinced Zavala so thoroughly? It wasn’t as though Edon had been messing up consistently, he’d done everything Zavala had asked of him and more. Even when he’d been away dealing with everything in the Dreaming City, he’d never once gone lax in his duties, so where was this coming from? Why would Zavala decide not to listen to him so quickly, especially with such a worthless excuse as the one Finian had given? At his meeting with him earlier, Zavala hadn’t even given him the time of day when he’d spoken of the state of his troops. What could cause him to be so callus?

“Did he say anything about me?” Edon demanded, “Anything that would have made Zavala reluctant to listen to me?”

Tarakash bit his lip, his eyes going wide as though Edon just speaking was enough to startle him. “No, I, uh…no. No, nothing comes to mind at least. Or nothing major, really. Just passing comments.”

“Tarakash.” Edon ground out. He’d never seen the other Titan so tense, fidgety, like he would rather wiggle out of his own skin than spend any longer locked in a room with Edon.

“He said…” The man shook his head, closing his eyes tight as his whole body tensed, like he was trying to shrink down the inches he towered over Edon.

“He said you seemed like you were neglecting your duties for your new boyfriend.” The other man breathed, and it hit Edon like a punch to the gut. In one moment, his whole heart dropped to his feet, and his head and ears hollowed out like he’d just stood too close to an explosion. “And that Zavala should put you on the front again to remind you what your priorities should be.”

Edon couldn’t move. Couldn’t even raise his gaze to find Tarakash’s face as he stood frozen, staring out at the wall ahead of him. Finian thought he was…for his new boyfriend.  _ Boyfriend. _ And now so did Zavala. The whole Order could have known now. Everyone but the 101 st .

“Listen, Edon.” Tarakash hedged at his silence. “I’m sure he’s just overacting. Everything went fine last rotation, I just…I didn’t know you were-“

“Get out.” Edon didn’t bother with politeness as he unlocked the door and grabbed it in a hand, opening it and pulling it wide to let the other Titan out. After a short moment of hesitation, Tarakash reluctantly left the room, and Edon shut the door almost before he’d even made it all the way across the threshold.

Edon managed to pace for only a few seconds before he felt his legs growing weak. He’d been so careful. Only Amaya had known, but she never would have told anyone. And he and Torak…they were always private. Their fireteam knew, but no one else. When they went out on dates, they always went into the City. They never shared affection in public areas of the Tower. They’d been careful, he’d been sure of it.

He slumped to the floor suddenly, one of his knees giving out as he’d walked, until he was seated on the floor and shaking. He’d always been planning on coming out to them all. He’d wanted to tell his Squadron first, always them first, then everyone else, but this? He’d never wanted it to be like this. Now everyone knew, and everyone was looking down on him for it. Neglecting his duties. He’d have preferred they chop off one of his limbs. All of his limbs. Or that Zavala shout at him about neglecting his duties until his voice was hoarse and Edon was nothing more than a mess on his gleaming office floor. Anything but this. Anything but—

He didn’t even hear Amaya knock until she was peeking her head in the door, and he didn’t even look at her as her eyes found him tucked against his bed and his nightstand, shaking in the dim little room.

“Edon?” She asked, her voice full of worry as she quickly shut the door behind her. The Squadron couldn’t see him like this. Couldn’t see him if they knew. “Edon, what’s wrong? Talk to me, what did he tell you?”

Yes, he’d almost forgotten. Tarakash had just walked out of this room moments ago, and now he was having a full-blown meltdown. What had he told him? Of course she’d be wondering.

“They know.” He breathed, and his body shook as he realized tears were flooding down his cheeks.  _ They know they know they know.  _ “Everyone knows.”

“What?” She asked, her voice so calm as she knelt beside him, as she took his hand and began to tug off his glove because she knew the way he liked to be touched and held, how it grounded him to everything that was here and real. “Do you mean about you and Torak? Who knows?”

He managed a weak nod, and as soon as she’d pulled off his glove and her own, he grabbed her hand and squeezed like his life depended on it.

“Tarakash said-“ He broke off with a heavy gasp, tears and snot and spit likely covering his face as his whole body shook like a leaf in a hurricane.

“He said-“ His voice came out as a croak this time, and he doubled over their joined hands as he gasped for breath, gaping like he’d just been hit in the gut and he  _ couldn’t breathe. _

“He said Finian knew.” He managed, a sob raking through him just as he managed to get the words out, a series of heavy gasping just following. Traveler those doors had never been soundproofed enough. The whole squadron would hear him. “He said Finian knew and he told everyone. All the Lieutenants and Seconds.”

Amaya let go of his hand for a brief moment and he actually surprised himself when he cried and leaned after her, but she was already out of his reach, snatching the mess of blankets on her bed and shoving them into the crack under the door. She was back in only seconds, leaning over him to grab a blanket from his bed and wrap it around him, wiping his face with it gingerly.

“Take a deep breath.” She told him, even as her eyes were wide while she searched his face. “We’re going to figure this out, okay? I just need you to take a deep breath.”

“Finian-“ He gasped as Amaya tried to shush him. “He said I was neglecting my duties for him. For Torak. And that Zavala should use the rotation as a punishment. To-“ He jerked away when Amaya tried to touch his face, still gasping every few words he managed to speak. “To remind me about what my priorities should be.”

His chest was straining against his chest plate now, every breath feeling too shallow, too confined. His body was feeling crushed by its weight, and he fought his way out of the blanket Amaya had wrapped around him as his Ghost flittered into existence beside Amaya and started speaking words he couldn’t hear, couldn’t understand. He fought for the buckles that kept the plate latched to his body, holding sturdy above the undersuit beneath, but his fingers shook so heavily he couldn’t even hold onto them.

Amaya must’ve done something, for moments later she was lifting the connected plates from his chest and back off, over his head and setting them down beside them, and her hand was back in his and she was telling him to breathe and finally he was beginning to listen.

“Keep breathing.” She told him, her voice still so calm. “I’m going to tell you what we can do, alright? You just have to keep breathing.”

Because he wouldn’t calm down until he had a plan of action, until he knew what had to be done and when and how. But he heard her words and nodded, mimicking the pace of her own breathing as he dragged a shaking, but deep breath into his lungs.

While he did, she summoned her Ghost and told it a few quick instructions he didn’t have the capacity to listen to. He only watched the light as it gave her a little nod and floated for the door.

“Okay,” She breathed, returning her gaze to him and taking both of his hands in hers. He couldn’t remember when they’d shed their second gloves, but he savored the contact of her calloused fingers on his, grounding him to the present. “During quiet hours, we can call Finian together and ask him exactly what he told the Lieutenants.” She began, still guiding him to take deep breaths. “We can also call Zavala, and talk to him about whether or not you’ve been neglecting your duties. We can ask him what Finian told him and figure out if that’s the real reason he put us on the front or not. Remember you said you didn’t think he was punishing us. Or we could schedule a meeting with everyone Finian talked to and try to tell them about it from your perspective. Or we can wait, and we can deal with all of this tomorrow with a clear head.”

Everything was a we, we can do this, or we can do that. But that was how it had always been, they’d always been a team. It was always we when it came to them, never just him on his own and her somewhere below, but we. They were a team, together through it all, equals and partners in every way.

Edon shook his head, using her hand to pull himself upright just a little.

“Torak.” He managed, taking a deep breath immediately after to keep himself from sobbing again. “Told him I would call.”

“Tonight?” She asked him, and he watched as she sat up from where she’d been sitting on her feet, releasing one of his hands so she could crawl over to the open space beside him. He couldn’t help but lean into her as she tucked herself against his side, holding him up as he rested his head atop hers.

He lifted a free hand and signed the hunter symbol for yes, the same way Torak would do when he didn’t have the capacity to speak for any longer but Edon still wanted to talk. He’d practiced the language enough with Amaya that he knew she recognized the gesture.

“Okay.” She agreed, perhaps only because he was quieting down against her, his breaths slowly evening out. “Then call him tonight.” She said, “And we’ll deal with all of this tomorrow. The world won’t fall apart in a single day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all have no idea how long I've been waiting to start posting this thing. Hope you liked it!


	2. Have You Gotten Sleep?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I'm doing my best to update this on the second of the month so we'll see if I can actually stick with that. Unfortunately there's another sort of cliff hanger situation here, but enjoy!
> 
> Chapter Warnings - mentioned sexual assault, graphic descriptions of wounds, blood

> "And all of your falling
> 
> Does it get exhausting? Have you gotten sleep?"
> 
> -Anyway, by Noah Kahan

Edon wasn’t sure if he was just too overwhelmed and exhausted to argue, or if Amaya actually had to convince him, but she helped him into his bed and told him to take a nap, which he did, though he was hardly asleep for an hour before he slipped through the empty hall and ducked into the communal bathroom beside his and Amaya’s room. He didn’t even dare look in the mirror before he’d woken himself up thoroughly with a cold shower and had begun sliding into clean underclothes and underarmor, finding his way to the large mirror before the sinks with his upper half still bare.

His eyes were bloodshot, but that could be excused as lack of sleep and not from a heavy cry, even after his hour nap. Thankfully, they weren’t puffy, which meant his cold shower had worked on multiple fronts, as he now felt awake enough to work, though anxiety was beginning to writhe under his skin again.

Thankfully, the rest of him looked more or less the same. He combed through his curly hair with his fingers as best he could, and didn’t bother with attempting to shave his growing beard, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it would look like if he neglected it for another two weeks. It was another problem for another time, he decided, and busied himself with dressing the rest of the way and finding his way back into his heavy armor.

When he emerged, he was nothing short of starving, but he pushed it off, opting to instead track down Amaya. She certainly deserved his thanks for talking him down earlier, not that he wanted to think about it much. He found her in the front room of the base, a sort of watch station that was split into two parts. The first, actually the only part that was actually a real room, contained a bay of monitors and wall screens, all rotating through a series of video feeds from the security cameras posted across the outpost. With the screens was radio equipment, and a bit of storage tucked back into a far corner of the room. The second half was a sort of lookout, built of cement and connected to the building, it had a roof and most of a wall, with a long slit running through the center to allow them to place their guns atop to shoot and look through, while remaining relatively safe behind the concrete wall. There were similar walls beyond the building, set up facing the woods in a way that reminded Edon of the paintball fields he’d seen on the outskirts of the city. Why anyone would ever want to mimic a firefight for purposes other than training, he had no idea.

Amaya was standing at the wall with a few of the Echo squad members. Their helmets were all on—as was Edon’s, he’d slipped it on just before exiting the building—but at the sight of him, he saw Amaya visibly perk up and she quickly dismissed herself to meet him.

“Hey,” She murmured to him as she reached him, and he nodded to her in greeting, then gestured to the open doorway that led out of the little concrete room, into the open space beyond the building. She followed him out, and Edon hadn’t realized how much of a weight had been put on him just by being inside until he felt it lifted by the open air.

“How did you sleep?” She asked him once they were outside and meandering along the edge of the building, their backs to the front but their eyes and ears alert. They both had rifles resting at their backs should anything happen.

“Alright.” He answered. “Listen, thank you for everything you did before.” He told her, pausing as he turned to face her. Even with his Second he felt the need to manage, to cover up his vulnerabilities, to explain. “I’m sorry I got so overwhelmed. You shouldn’t have had to see me like that.”

“I don’t mind.” She reminded him quietly, and thank the Traveler she understood him, understood perhaps better than even he did that he needed those vulnerabilities to keep him human and alive and breathing, even if they came with more pain than he wanted to bear. “I’ve never minded it. I think it brings us closer.” Her voice was soft, and Edon almost took her hand in that moment, almost wrapped her into his arms and thanked her for simply existing at the same time as he did. But he just bumped the back of her hand with his, and he knew she knew it all already.

“Finian shouldn’t have done all that.” She murmured. “He should never have said those things. Even if he knew, even if he thought it was true, he shouldn’t have told anyone. It was never his place.”

A spark of pain and panic drove into his heart at her words, but he fought them down, because he knew already, and he would handle it, even if the thought of having to face the situation made him want to jump into a frozen lake and stay there, he’d deal with it. Somehow.

“I know.” He breathed in return. He could only pray Finian hadn’t found out about Amaya, that he couldn’t wreck the same havoc on her, too.

The idea of being outed left him in such a swirling pit of unknowns he wasn’t even sure which way was up. In a way he knew how to proceed, but in a much more real, more present sense, he had no idea what to do. He hadn’t even considered the idea of someone exposing him in this way. He’d thought about it if someone outed him in front of other people while he was there, while he heard the words coming from their mouth and yet he could do nothing to stop them, but this? Being so detached from the situation, he’d never considered it, had never planned a way forward.

“I feel so…lost.” He murmured to her, “I know there are paths forward for me to take, but I have no idea which one to choose. None of them feel right. I just wish I could undo everything and come out myself.” He shook his head, “Anything but this.”

It wasn’t so much that he was bothered by the fact that his colleagues knew he was gay, he’d have been fine with that eventually, only it was so much more than that. Finian had accused him of neglecting his duties, and hadn’t even had the wherewithal to do it to Edon’s face. No, he’d done it in a room with the most important people in Edon’s career circle, without even offering him the chance to defend himself, and no one, not a single person had thought to tell him about what had been said until he’d practically beat it out of Tarakash. The whole thing made a terrible judgement on his sexuality and his personal life, and having no control over it was worse than Edon had ever felt. It made him want to be sick. His stomach was flipping at the very thought of it.

“Have you talked to Torak yet?” Amaya asked him after they’d lapsed into silence.

He shook his head. “No. I figured I’d tell him tonight. I just don’t want to go back into it again.” She would know as well as he did that some things couldn’t be touched until after a healthy amount of time had laid upon them, and with some people, even those things could hardly be discussed for a matter of moments. Amaya had been there, she knew what had happened and why well enough, even if she hadn’t been in the room when Tarakash had said the words to him. But Torak? He’d have to explain it, all of it, the how, the why, the who…just thinking about it made him want to squirm.

Amaya nodded beside him, and at her silence Edon wondered not for the first time why so many of his close companions seemed to be introverted. Amaya less than the others—like his sister and Torak—but he’d seen her on her rough days, the way she had to close herself in her own space and just sit in the quiet until she could breathe again. They’d adapted to one another well enough. She would listen when he wanted to talk, and she’d sit beside him when she couldn’t talk back, offering up whatever energy he could recharge from just being in her physical presence without draining her own battery with social interactions she sometimes had too much of. As he’d known her, he’d learned it was the same thing that made her such an invaluable leader, the way she preferred to watch and listen like Torak did. Sometimes it surprised him how he hardly ever had to teach her how to do certain things because she’d already watched him do them so many times they simply clicked with her as soon as she attempted them.

He was learning to count his blessings from the Traveler, and even if the current situation wasn’t one of them, the people in his life, Amaya and Torak and his sister and so many more…they made it all worth it.

He let out his breath in a little sigh, drawing his mind back to the present.

“I still have to make the schedule.” He told her, his face turned up to the afternoon sky. Zavala would be breathing down his neck if he didn’t get it up soon. “Are you busy?”

Amaya shook her head. “I was planning on going out on the next patrol, but that’s not for another couple of hours, so I can help you out until then.”

“Okay.” He agreed with a nod. “It shouldn’t take too long.”

Together, they holed up in the cramped little meeting room, just where they’d been hours before with the rest of the squad leads. Amaya pulled up a topographic map of the outpost and its surrounding area on the center holotable, while Edon used the wallscreen to display the schedule he’d already begun to build, editing it though the data tablet in his hand. Thankfully, they were able to build the schedule in a little more than half an hour, and Edon quickly proofread it before submitting it to the message board he and Amaya were running for Zavala and the other lieutenants. Mostly, the board was just a running activity log of everything going on at the outpost, Amaya would log when each patrol left and returned, along with detailing who was on each patrol and from which squad. An hour ago, they’d logged the supply delivery from Tarakash, and when they eventually made contact with the Fallen, they’d use the log to communicate when the contact was made and at which building.

Given their overall importance, the logs were generally well monitored, and Zavala had the request approved within fifteen minutes of Edon posting it. As soon as he did, he sent it to each of his Squad Leaders, and within minutes they had their whole two week schedule—including the entire patrol schedule—up and sorted out on one of the large wallscreens of the meeting room.

“So you’re going on patrol next?” He asked Amaya once it was up, approaching the wall and tapping on the time slot for the next patrol, beginning in a little over an hour. She nodded, and he reached out a hand to edit the plan, bumping one of the Echo Squad members from the slot to allow Amaya in.

“Have you eaten yet today?” He asked her. In the whole mess that had followed the delivery of the food and supplies, he hadn’t yet, and his stomach certainly wasn’t happy about it, but those were his own problems. It was still his job to look after his Second, even if she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

“Yeah.” She said with another little nod. “I ate while you were asleep. I made sure to set some stuff aside for you though, before Echo stole it all.” She told him, then gave him a smile. “There’s an MRE with your name on it. Asian style beef strips.” She told him, and he recalled her favorite of the MREs with a weak little smile.

“I really don’t know why you like that one so much.” He remarked, and she frowned.

MREs were practically the staple diet of any Titan in the Stoneborn Order. Meals Ready to Eat, the MREs were built to last unopened for literal decades, and were filled with enough calories to sustain a large male fighter on the front in any kind of physical activity. Edon had certainly been hungry on the front before, but he wasn’t sure if he’d ever actually finished a full MRE in one sitting. However, the case could be argued that he couldn’t stomach them because of their taste, and not due to the actual amount of food. As the Squadron’s commander, Edon made a point to take his meals last, and subsequently was often left with the worst MREs humanity had to offer, from a vegan maple breakfast patty to a sort of hamburger that was made of meat he wouldn’t be willing to eat if he was starving. But at the end of the day, they were warm, and sometimes came with a surprisingly good peach cobbler, so how much more could he really ask for?

“It’s better than the sorry excuse for spaghetti that you always go for.” She shot back, and he conceded with his hands raised in mock surrender. Admittedly, she was right, but preferences were preferences. Still, even if the beef strips weren’t his favorite, he was touched that she’d save her own favorite for him. He had to banish the thought of his breakdown from his mind, just as worry crept in. How many of the Echo squad members had heard him crying? He wasn’t sure he even wanted to know.

Traveler, breaking down like that…it had just come out of the blue, all of it had been so sudden. He hadn’t expected to really freak out about the whole thing until he'd collapsed on the floor. Nothing like that had ever happened to him before, and when he did have fits like that, from nightmares or PTSD or whatever other trauma that came with being a Guardian, he’d freak out, piece himself back together and just move on. He’d be more or less fine to continue as he normally did, but now? He wasn’t fine. Even if there weren’t tears streaming down his cheeks and he felt relatively steady, there was still a huge problem looming over his head, and he had no idea what to do about it. Could he wait? He didn’t want to, but at the same time, the idea of addressing the problem made him want to crawl into a pit and never come out, but he couldn’t just let it go on, could he? Was it the kind of problem that would get worse with time? He couldn’t exactly leave his post to address it, not if he wanted to show he wasn’t neglecting his duties, and how was he supposed to address Finian? What did you do when one of your coworkers outed you to your entire Order? Especially when you had no idea said coworker even had the knowledge necessary to do so?

Perhaps he’d overreacted. For all he knew, Finian hadn’t even known about him and Torak, and had thrown out a wild accusation for the sole reason of keeping his second week of rest. Perhaps the only reason he’d brought up Edon was because he hadn’t been there to disprove it, but he must’ve had evidence, wouldn’t he? If Zavala had just believed him, without even considering speaking to Edon personally about it, he must’ve had something to prove what he was saying was true, but what could that possibly have been? Besides the occasional visit with Torak on the front, he’d never neglected his duties for Torak. In fact, he often felt he neglected Torak for his duties. His squadron seemed to follow him everywhere. His desk at home was always covered in documents about them, and he and Amaya were almost always in contact one way or the other. He’d canceled plans with Torak numerous times for the 101 st , so what did Finian have on him? What had he told them?

He was just about ready to call Tarakash before Amaya poked his arm with a gloved finger.

“Edon.” She said, leaning further into his line of vision. Amaya wasn’t short, but she was still a few inches shorter than he was, and lifted herself up onto her toes a little to raise herself up into his gaze. “Are you alright? You look worried.”

Edon blinked, then quickly shook his head.

“I’m sorry.” He said, lowering his voice, “I was just thinking about earlier. I guess I’m still a little riled up about it.” He explained, shifting his gaze away from her and back to the wallscreen beside them.

“Do you want me to stay here?” She asked him, “Instead of going on patrol? I don’t want to leave you alone if you need me.”

“No,” He said quickly, returning his gaze to her and doing his best to return his face to a somewhat neutral expression, “I’ll be okay. I’m just debating whether or not I should call Finian.”

It didn’t seem like a good idea. If Fianian had been telling the truth to Zavala and the others, and if he really did have good information on Edon and had decided to use it against him in the meeting, to out him to everyone…Edon wasn’t sure calling would be enough for him. Truthfully, he wanted to rip out the man’s throat. His career wouldn’t be ruined by this—he wouldn’t let it ruin his career, no matter what—but he could already guess that it would be stunted. Zavala’s trust in him, the other Lieutenants respect for him, and all because Finian couldn’t deal with taking another week out on the front, giving up just a week on the wall. He wouldn’t mind meeting Lyra and Evered in the Crucible for starting this whole mess, but Finian? The Crucible was too good for him. Too civil.

“Let me be there if you decide to do it.” Amaya suggested. “I won’t jump in if you don’t want me to, but I have a feeling that won’t be a pleasant exchange. And you’ll need someone to cover you and make sure all your duties are handled.”

“Right.” He breathed with a nod, and it hurt more than he cared to admit to know how much of a necessity that would be from now on, to have such solid and concrete proof that he wasn’t being negligent. He’d worked for years to gain that trust, to bring the 101 st up to something the whole Order took pride in, and to bring himself up with it. He wanted the Order to be proud of him. It made him sick to think that not only would they not be proud, but now they likely didn’t trust him much, either.

He had to talk to Zavala, had to figure out what was going on, had to hear it from someone closer than Tarakash, even if it meant acknowledging what Finian had revealed about him and Torak. But after all of this, not only was he supposed to try and combat all the false information and the lies about himself, but he also had to be vulnerable, too? His and Torak’s relationship was absolutely none of the Order’s business, he didn’t want them in his personal life any more than they already were, but if he was to clear his name, he’d have to be honest about some of it, right?

That thought alone was enough to make him want to be sick, and he was actually glad he hadn’t eaten anything in so long. He was already well aware that life wasn’t fair. He was a Guardian, dealing with that was his job, but now he had to expose himself for something someone else did to him? His heart stung when he realized he must’ve been feeling similarly to the sexual assault victims that occasionally surfaced within the Stoneborn Order. He’d gone to bat for a few of them before, one from his own Squadron, and after that two from others. He’d always been sympathetic to them before, but this was the victim blaming, the guilt, wondering ‘why didn’t I prevent this?’ Experiencing it for himself…it changed something for him, even if his situation wasn’t the same. Even if their situations were always so much worse.

“Edon.” Amaya’s voice was quiet beside him, and he blinked back to reality, drawing in a breath so deep his lungs shuddered at the end of it.

“Sorry.” He breathed, closing his eyes for a moment. “Do you remember Lilian?”

Lilian had been a Titan from the 25 th Squadron who’d come to him and Amaya almost a year ago. She’d been fairly new to the Order when they’d met her, after she’d volunteered to run some supplies to them from one of the other outposts while both the 25 th and 101 st had been stationed on the front. She’d brought the supplies and had practically begged him and Amaya to speak with her alone, and had broken down in their meeting room when she’d spilled the details of what her squad leader had been doing to her. Rape, repeated sexual assault and abuse, and her whole squad either didn’t know or had turned a blind eye to it all. Amaya had nearly torn the man’s head off when she’d heard, and neither of them had stopped until he was banished from the Order and stationed at a tiny post on Titan under Deputy Commander Sloane’s watchful eye. Edon was still waiting for a space to open up to have her transferred to the 101 st , but he checked in enough with her to know she was safe.

Amaya nodded beside him, and he let out his breath.

“It’s nowhere near as bad,” He began, “but I wonder if this is how she felt. Knowing she had to violate her own privacy in order to receive justice.”

Amaya looked at him for a long moment before her gaze fell down to the floor and she shook her head. “You’re going through a lot, but it’s not the same.” She told him, and her voice was quiet enough that he blinked, and quickly realized he’d indeed crossed over a line.

“You’re right.” He agreed quietly. He wouldn’t offer any excuses. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

She shook her head, raising her gaze again and gripping his arm as she drew in a breath.

“It’s alright. Go eat something.” She told him, “You’re MRE is in the command center.” She said, lightly pushing him towards the door. “Go.” And he gave her a little nod, and went to do as he was told.

Amaya left for her patrol just before five, and the sun was dipping low in the sky as Edon watched her and a Titan from Echo zip off into the distance, dodging trees and rocks scattered across the space. With her gone, he dove into work, organizing and planning and prepping for everything that would be to come. It was all he could do to keep from thinking about himself and Torak, and about Finian and Zavala and Tarakash and the other Lieutenants. Every heated, desiring thought he’d had earlier that day, they all withered and died in the pit in his stomach, and even as he worked, he wanted to burst into tears just thinking about the mess he’d wound up in. He was too exhausted to bear it. Too upset and too hurt and tired and aching, and all he wanted to do was go  _ home,  _ to curl up with Torak and forget any of the past day had even happened. He wanted Lyra and Evered to be with their squadron on the front and for everything to be the way it was supposed to be, and there was nothing he could do to make that happen.

It was three more hours before Amaya returned from her patrol, and she didn’t even receive a moment of down time as she returned to the base, arguing with the squad leads over her comms even as she dismounted her sparrow and headed inside the building. He didn’t have the capacity to listen much to what the argument was about. Alpha wanted to send one of their militia out on the 11 o’clock patrol instead of having them rest until the next morning. Apparently, they couldn’t sleep, they wanted to go and were insisting. It wasn’t like it hadn’t happened before. Amaya got verbal confirmation from the fighter and he approved the switch without much thought.

They worked for three more hours, and Amaya was approving and logging the 11 o’clock patrol from a datapad while she watched Edon drawing up Torak’s comm frequency on his own. It was the same thing they’d done plenty of times before. Calling Torak was often a nighttime ritual for Edon, and neither of them seemed to mind her listening in to their calls as she finished up her last few tasks for the night.

Now, she glanced down to Edon, laying back on his bed as he listened to the feed projecting out of his own tablet on the little crate that served as his bedside table.

“Edon?” His lover’s voice came through the speakers, garbled at first, but steady as he continued. “Is that you? Are you awake over there?”

His tone was teasing, and it hurt Amaya to watch as Edon tried and failed to smile, his face breaking into a pained expression. He couldn’t even manage a weak laugh, just a puff of air in a little attempt. Being here again, she had no doubt he was dreading what he had to tell Torak, what he had to go back into all over again.

“Yeah.” He managed weakly, and his voice sounded so broken it brought pain to her chest, and there was a long moment of silence from the other side of the comms, and then a rush of shuffling sounded through the tablet.

“Edon, are you okay?” Torak asked, and she could see from the way Edon shut his eyes tight that the concern in his voice was enough to draw tears.

He managed a shaking breath, dragging his arm over his eyes.

“Something happened, Torak.” He rasped, and he breathed like his throat was closing up tight around his words.

“Edon?” Torak asked after he went silent. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? Is Amaya okay?”

Her heart went out to the both of them at the worry in his voice, and she nearly spoke to dispel his worries for her before she caught herself and shut her mouth. She’d step in if Edon asked her to, but it wasn’t her place yet. She had to let him do it himself, at least for as long as he could manage.

But instead of speaking he just shook his head, opening his mouth to respond, but he couldn’t seem to find the words, couldn’t manage them if he wanted to keep some semblance of control over his emotions. She only watched as he pulled his arm off his eyes and managed to lift his gaze to hers, and he gave her a look that pleaded for help and her own throat tightened in response, and she had to struggle in a deep breath. He managed a gesture for her to speak, and she kept her eyes on him for a moment before looking at the tablet.

“No, it’s not like that, Torak.” She answered, her tone measured. “We’re both fine. Physically at least.”

She added the last bit almost as an afterthought, and Edon had to sit up, pushing his legs off his bed to set his feet on the floor and bow over his knees.

“What happened?” Came Torak’s reply, and there was so much worry and concern in his voice that it almost knocked Amaya’s breath away.

But again, she waited, her eyes trained on Edon as he struggled in breath after breath, his hands wound in his mop of curls as his shoulders shook and his whole body jerked with each sharp gasp.

He gave her another nod, and she reached out to take his hand before she plunged forward. She had to tear into the wound like ripping off a bandaid, like removing a foreign object from an injury before putting pressure on it. It was forcing herself to deal the pain in order to ease the hurt and start the healing. But they hadn’t even reached healing yet. No, this was damage control.

“Finian outed Edon to the Order.” She explained, and Torak went silent. “There was a meeting this morning, and Finian told Zavala and all the Lieutenants and their Seconds that Edon was neglecting his duties…for you.”

The silence was almost crushing, and Amaya held Edon’s hand for the long moments as they waited for Torak to speak again.

“Traveler,” He finally breathed, and his tone held nothing but shock. “Is that why Zavala positioned you out there? How did you find out?”

“We don’t know.” Amaya answered. “Tarakash told him while he was delivering our supplies. He said he hadn’t been the one to suggest posting the 101 st on the front, and Edon brought him inside to ask him what he meant by it. I found him in our quarters after Tarakash left.”

Her eyes cut to Edon’s again, briefly, and she slid to the edge of her bed to wipe a tear from his face with her free hand. She held steady as he leaned into her touch as she cupped his face.

“And as for Zavala, I have no idea. If he was willing to believe Finian enough to not listen to Edon and to send us out again, he must’ve had some substantial proof, and if he did, then there’s no way Zavala could’ve let us off the hook in front of the whole Order.”

“How…” Torak’s voice broke off for a moment. “Finian, how did he know?”

She glanced to Edon at the question, but he only shook his head. She had doubted he knew. He probably would’ve told her if he did.

“We don’t know.” She answered. “All we know is that the Order knows, and as far as we know, the 101 st hasn’t been told yet.”

“I’m so sorry, Edon.” Torak breathed. Amaya had known Torak had never felt the need to keep their relationship closeted from others. Edon had described to her that the mental blocks Torak had faced about their relationship had been purely within himself. He hadn’t given a damn about what the world thought of him, but he’d kept Edon’s secret because he’d known what it had meant to him, recognized the fear there and had been supportive and willing to help him through it.

“I know you wanted to tell them first.” He continued, and Amaya blinked.  _ That  _ little tidbit, she hadn’t known. It wasn’t a far jump, nor was it a surprising fact, but there was deep meaning in Torak’s voice when he spoke the words. This was something Edon had spoken of, had looked forward to and dreamed of. The same way she did, it was that desire to be honest and truthful and  _ whole,  _ and it was the desire to let their friends see the extent or their true selves before they allowed the rest of the world into that place.

And Finian had robbed him of it.

She didn’t realize she was trying to clench her hands into fists until Edon began to squirm, trying and failing to detach his hands from her unrelenting grip. She quickly relaxed her grip, murmuring a few apologies to him and loosening her grip enough to allow him to slip his hands out of hers should he want to.

“Have you talked to him about it?” Torak was asking when Amaya returned her focus to the conversation. “Finian? Or have you asked Zavala about it?”

“No.” She answered for Edon, reaching out to retrieve her tablet from where she’d set it aside on her bed. “We figured we’d talk to them in the morning. Sort through it all with a clear head.”

Still holding Edon with one hand, she propped her tablet up on her knees, the screen carefully angled away from Edon’s line of sight, not that he was looking anyways. Using her free hand, she opened it up with a touch and navigated her way to her text message thread with Torak. She hesitated a good few moments before typing.

_ It was bad, Torak. _

__

And a moment later;

_ He had a breakdown. I found him crying on the floor. It was some sort of panic attack, but it’s not like anything I’ve seen him go through before. _

__

Torak let out a sigh heavy enough they could hear it through the little speakers in the tablet.

“I can’t believe Finian would do something like that.” He murmured. “I can’t believe anyone would.”

If Torak was angry, he didn’t let on, but under her own pain for Edon, she felt plenty of rage. It was why she’d wanted to go on patrol earlier, to do something that wasn’t sitting around, maybe kill a squad of Fallen all with her own fists. But Torak’s voice was calm, just as she’d forced herself to sound when she’d first found out. He likely didn’t want to make the situation any worse than it already was, didn’t want to set Edon off any more.

_ How is he now? _

She tried not to glance too obviously down at Torak’s reply when it appeared on her tablet screen, but Edon had pulled his hands out of hers and was still hunched over his legs, his face in his hands as he struggled to breathe deep.

“Me neither,” She responded, trying to keep her mind focused on both conversations at once. It would likely only hurt Edon more if he thought she couldn’t speak of certain things in front of him.

_ He’s held together well enough. Right now, I think he’s just trying not to break down again. _

__

She waited a few moments.

_ Do you think he can get through another two weeks? _

__

She chewed her lip, aware she and Torak were allowing their verbal conversation to lapse into silence, not that Edon seemed to mind much.

_ I don’t know. The longer this goes on, the worse I think it’s going to get for him. We need to sort everything out with Zavala but if Edon leaves the front someone could accuse him of actually being negligent. _

__

“Torak.”

Edon’s voice was raspy and quiet, but it shocked her out of her thoughts and she paused in her typing for a brief moment as she raised her eyes once more.

“Yeah?” Came the other man’s reply, and Edon reached out and took his tablet from the little crate beside his bed, resting it on his lap as he sat up and slid back to lean against the wall behind him.

“I—” He broke off, took a little breath. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore than we have to.”

“Okay.” Torak answered, and his voice was soft and kind enough that Edon shut his eyes as his lip wobbled. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore. What would you rather we talk about?”

“Can you tell me about your day?” Edon asked, his eyes closed still as he tipped his head back to rest against the wall.

“About my day?” Torak asked, and Edon nodded, not that the other man could see it.

_ I’ll help in any way I can. Just tell me what I have to do. _

__

“Okay…well, after I left you at the front I went back to the Tower.” He began, and Edon seemed to settle in to listen.

Amaya turned her eyes back to her tablet as Torak began to speak, as he told Edon about how he’d tidied up the home they now shared, and how he’d made himself a late breakfast—practicing the omelette recipe Edon had been teaching him to make—before he’d headed into the EDZ to help out their fireteam members Tessa and Damian. He told Edon about how he’d spent the day clearing out the forges in the EDZ, and he described them all to Edon, how long the fights lasted, how many waves, even what the forges looked like. He told Edon about Ada-1, and how she and Edon’s sister Ada were surprisingly alike in their firm beliefs and quiet nature, though Ada-1 still spoke quite a bit more than Edon’s sister.

Nothing seemed to calm Edon quite like Torak’s voice, and he let him go on and on, listening to every word with closed eyes. She watched his breathing begin to slowly calm, his tears drying as he shifted to lay on his back, the little tablet on his chest as his lover spoke softly to him. He’d only just begun to smile when an explosion rocked the whole building.

Whatever drowsy relaxation he’d slipped into under the charm of Torak’s voice shattered when the explosion rocked the whole base. His eyes shot open, and like muscle memory, his commander’s role took control and he was on his feet in an instant, Amaya just behind him.

“Torak, I have to go.”

It was all he said before he pushed out of his and Amaya’s quarters, Amaya two steps behind, their Ghost’s still transmatting their armor onto their bodies as they rushed towards the command center at the front of the building.

Inside, the Echo Squad lead was already on his feet, ordering the titans of the squad that were awake to move into the little concrete room ahead.

“What happened?” Edon demanded, pushing past the squad and into the open room, the squad leader just behind him.

“We don’t know. Maybe an attack.” The other titan told him quickly, following him to the little slit in the wall. “Does anyone have eyes on the fallen?” He demanded to the squad, all of which voiced that they didn’t.

“I’m contacting the patrol units.” Amaya told him, a tablet in her hands as she followed beside him, ducking down to crouch below the slit in the wall.

Some one hundred yards off, trees were catching fire. Some sort of vehicle lay twisted and burning under a tree truck, and it almost sounded like someone was shouting.

“It’s a sparrow crash, Sir!”

He didn’t see which member of Echo had identified the wreckage, didn’t even have time to identify the voice before the screaming started.

He had time to recognize the noise as feminine before he looked to Amaya and watched her drop her tablet in the dirt, swearing like a sailor.

“That’s Cahira.” Amaya said, already rushing for the open doorway. “She went on patrol from Alpha.  _ Shit!” _

__

She broke into a run before she was even out of the room, Edon just behind her, and her rifle was in her hands as he sprinted to take the lead, rushing straight towards the burning forest.

Cahira was one of the militia women of Alpha squad. She’d been the one requesting to go on patrol a few hours ago, but her patrol had only just started. She’d been paired with a Titan from Bravo squad. They’d likely needed to meet up together, to cross the terrain on their sparrows. The whole landscape was unfamiliar to them, it was dark, the woods were dense, they were all tired… _ shit!  _ He could only pray she wasn’t hurt, but the screaming didn’t stop, and Edon knew his prayers would go unanswered.

The fire was widely spread, thank the Traveler there was snow on the ground to hinder it at least a little as it tore into trees all around the crash. As they ran closer, he could see the vehicle he’d seen before was actually two, light maneuverable sparrows, their frames warped together by the force of the crash. Thankfully, neither rider was on their vehicle, but Cahira was still screaming. Where was she?

“Over here!” A male voice shouted, and Edon spun to face the voice, a titan limping towards them, Cahira in his arms.

They were both covered in blood, but Cahira…her armor was in tatters, many of the sturdy plates missing, warped or all out demolished. She was hunched over herself, gripping at her leg. It was streaming blood, red pouring out of the wound and into the snow, but even that couldn’t hide the true injury. Her leg had been snapped, just below the knee, bone cut out of her leg at a jagged angle, and Edon was pretty sure only her hands gripping the injury was holding it together as the other titan carried her, racing towards them at a hobbling sprint.

Edon recognized the Titan to be called Blaz, the Bravo squad member she’d been paired with. Edon raced through the fires towards them, just as Blaz began to slow, coughing heavily from the smoke filling his lungs. Neither were wearing helmets, but they wouldn’t have survived the crash without them. Edon could see the evidence of their broken pieces on their cut faces, coming clearly into view as he raced to close the gap between them. Amaya was just behind him, and they reached the pair just as Blaz collapsed to his knees, and Edon quickly followed him, his arms already out to pull Cahira into his arms.

The woman let out a mangled scream as Blaz handed her over to him and she was shifted from one set of arms to another, but Edon didn’t stop, doing his best to soothe her.

“Hold on, Cahira.” He told her, tucking her close to his chest and standing once more as Amaya lugged Blaz to his feet. “We’re going to get you home. Just try to be quiet for me, can you do that?”

With the way she’d been screaming, it was a miracle the Fallen weren’t on them already, but he knew it was only a matter of moments until they’d come to attack. Amaya must’ve recognized it too, for her voice echoed in the comms at his ear not an instant later.

“Sarid, prepare for contact.” She ordered, “And someone get a med pack ready.”

Edon was already telling his Ghost to call for a medical evacuation, but he had no idea when they’d arrive, especially if there were Fallen on the way.

Edon’s feet carried him back out of the forest without his mind needing to guide them, and it felt like he was back in the outpost building in the time it took to blink, setting Cahira down on the first bit of open space he could find. But here, in the light, her wounds rendered him speechless. Her leg, Traveler,  _ her leg. _

Blood was practically pulsing from the wound, pouring out and out and out even as one of the Echo Squad members grabbed a heavy cloth filled with gauze and shoved it firmly against the wound. Cahira’s responding scream shattered through the building, just as Edon heard the Fallen roar in the distance.

“Battle stations!”

Edon didn’t even look up, tearing through the med kit that had been set beside him until there was a tourniquet in his hands and he was wrapping it around Cahira’s leg as tight as it would go, and she didn’t stop screaming. Fingers tore into his armor, desperate hands clawing at him,  _ begging  _ him to stop until Amaya was at his side and there was a needle in her hand and slowly the woman’s grip went limp.

Then the explosions hit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun, right? Maybe before I post the next chapter of this I'm going to post another part to this story (it will just be posted like another chapter but won't be another chapter), so you all will have a bit more content that might help illuminate the events within/around the story without actually being the story itself. Long story short, stay tuned for that. Regardless of when I post that, there will still be another real chapter on or before the 2nd of March. Can't wait for you to read it!


	3. Covered in Dirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edon and the 101st fight to survive the Fallen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! So nice to see you again! Sorry about not posting the thing I very vaguely explained when I posted the last chapter, I had to move some things around but I think I'll be posting that in a few days! Also, I'm not sure if any of you are lore junkies and caught my mistake, but I did mess up the titan order names and such when I was writing this, apparently the Gatewatch Order is the titan order that guards the walls but I don't really like their philosophy so I'm going to keep it as is. Plus Stoneborn sounds cooler. Also, it's been a while, so remember this story started in medias res. Anyways, enjoy!
> 
> No specific warnings for this chapter, just cannon typical violence.

> _Honey, don't worry, I'll do your laundry, covered in dirt._
> 
> _-Anyway, by Noah Kahan_

_Present Time_

The shower water ran red between Edon’s feet, a river of blood and dirt and sweat and more blood, slipping off his body, splattering on the tile and sliding towards the drain so slowly. His eyes trailed the flecks the whole way, some of the dirt and blood matted together with strands of grass or pine needles. They’d come off his body under the touch of the water, the stream carrying them along, to the drain. He could hardly feel the water as it pounded against his back. He could hardly even feel Torak’s hands on him as the man stood in front of him, massaging shampoo into his hair, combing his fingers through blood clots and loose tufts, torn out by Fallen hands or blades.

It wasn’t from the smoke, no, he knew that much. Severin had dissolved his high not moments after Torak had appeared on the roof, this loss of feeling, this numbness, it was entirely within his head. Not that the knowledge of it made it any better. It might have even made it worse, to know that this too was a result of his failures, that he couldn’t feel the caring hands of his lover because of the pain he’d inflicted on his troops. At least he could still feel his own pain. At least he still had that.

Traveler, he wondered what his militia fighters looked like right now. Were they all spread out on tables, doctors cleaning away the mess of blood and dirt that no doubt covered them all, desperate to reach the wounds buried below? Would the doctors even succeed, or would they bleed out before they could get to them? Had some of them already? He’d held the front for so long. Hours, he’d weathered the Fallen’s storms for hours, buying time again and again to get his fighters to safety, but were they?

He had wounds, too, buried deep below the dirt and blood. He felt them stinging now, the hot water searing into them sharply enough to draw tears to his eyes. He’d commanded Severin not to touch them, at first to save Light, but now it was to feel that pain, to feel the way they burned, just to remind him of how much worse he’d inflicted on his troops.

His tears were constant, now, a steady stream that blurred his vision, drifting down his face and melting into the water that dripped along the rest of his body, hot and sharp and stinging. Whether Torak had realized it or not, he gave no indication, but he could no doubt see the way Edon was breathing. Deep, suffering breaths, filling his lungs nearly to the point of bursting before emptying them as best he could and starting again, as if he could bring himself far, far away, with just his lungs. Even with so much oxygen being pumped into his body, he still felt like he was suffocating.

He tipped his head back when Torak guided him to, listening to the slap of the water on the tile as his lover rinsed the shampoo from his hair, murmuring words he couldn’t discern from the noise around them. When he had him bring his head back up, Edon didn’t realize he was moving until he’d stepped forward, into Torak’s chest, and was tucking his head into the crook of the other man’s neck, his hands bracing on his chest. Somehow, the soft press of Torak’s lips against his temple made it through the haze that clouded his senses, as did the feeling of Torak’s hands, slipping up to hold onto his back, pulling him into a gentle embrace. Edon nearly broke against him. He wanted to.

“Thinking about it will only hurt you more.” Torak murmured into his ear, and Edon let out a shuddering breath.

“It’s what I deserve.” He responded, managing a broken whisper. His voice sounded as hollow as he felt, his insides a chasm with no end.

“No, it’s not.” Torak’s voice was firm. Firm enough that Edon’s fingers curled on his chest, aching for something to hold onto before he curled them into fists. “You didn’t mean to put them in danger. You regret what you did and you’d rather die in their place than let any of them get hurt.” He continued. He wasn’t asking. They both knew everything he said was true. But it wouldn’t change the past.

“The Fallen were still the ones that attacked.” He reminded Edon, his hands moving between them to push Edon away lightly, his back returning to the stream of hot water. “You did all you could. You tried to make up for your mistakes as best as you were able. It’s out of your hands now.”

Edon’s gaze fell to the tiled floor below them, to the blood still dripping at their feet. Torak reached out to grip his chin gently.

“Look at me.” The other man told him, his voice quiet, but firm. Gentle, but with no room for argument. It was just as Edon himself had instructed Torak to do months ago, when he’d stitched up his wounds in his ship. But Edon resisted, kept his chin down, shook his head when Torak tried to raise it.

“Please, Edon.” Torak’s grip slackened as his tone softened. “I need to know you’re still in there.”

The words threatened to cleave a hole in his already aching chest, and it was all he could do to raise his bloodshot, teary eyes to Torak’s, just as his lover moved to gently cup his cheek.

“I want to go to bed.” He managed weakly. He very nearly said he wished to go home, but he’d adjusted his words just before he’d spoken them, rather than having to explain to Torak why he was home physically but not mentally, and that he’d never be home if his troops couldn’t make it to theirs, too.

“Okay.” Torak agreed with a little nod. “Just wait a little longer.”

Torak handled him like glass, like he hadn’t just raged for hours in battle, hadn’t just decimated a landscape with his Light, hadn’t just slaughtered perhaps hundreds of Eliksni for the sake of keeping his troops alive. He soaped down his body and washed the blood from the cuts and gashes that covered his body, touching each one so gently he nearly broke down time and time again before he rinsed him off under the warm water and led him back out onto the bathroom floor.

Edon was still crying when Torak helped him dry off, and dress in clean clothes. He didn’t stop when they made it to the bed, and Torak kissed each tear away before helping him under the blankets, slipping in after him and letting him nestle into his warm chest, holding him close with arms that had never faltered. His lover held him firm until long after he drifted to sleep, because he didn’t care what Edon had done, he didn’t care what anyone else would think of him or blame him for, Torak had seen Edon with his squadron dozens of times before, he knew he’d give his life for any of them without hesitation. But most importantly, he was Edon, and Torak had made a promise, a promise he very much intended to keep.

“It’s going to be okay.” He breathed, even after Edon’s breathing had leveled out into a deep sleep. “I’m with you.”

* * *

_Two Days Earlier_

The evacuation team was on their way.

Edon had done everything he could for Cahira, had bound her leg as best he could and had done everything he was able to slow the bleeding before he left her in Amaya’s care. With the tourniquet he’d applied, the bleeding had slowed, and after Amaya had given her morphine, she’d stopped thrashing, but fear was curled in Edon’s gut as he went to aid the other fighters. Everyone in the building was awake, now. All the militia fighters from Echo had heard the explosion and rushed to ready themselves for the inevitable battle, but the Fallen were hitting them _hard._ Harder than he’d experienced in the past, and much harder than he knew was typical of the western front.

They’d come up on the other squads as well, focusing primarily on them in the center, but bands of Fallen were already keeping the other squads from coming to their aid. Even if the crash had been sudden, unexpected, accidental, the response felt far too planned, like the Fallen had been waiting for their inevitable misstep. Battle was something he was used to, but the Fallen were rarely so organized. Rarely did they come at them in such force, in such great numbers.

The darkness wasn’t helping them, either. The buildings had flood lights that shone out into the woods ahead of them, but they didn’t penetrate the thick cover of the trees. Beyond them Edon couldn’t even make out where the Fallen were, much less how many there were and where they were coming from. He fought to recall the landscape he’d explored earlier that day, but in the dark, it all looked different.

“Finian says the evacuation team has been blocked.” His Ghost spoke in his mind, just as Edon shot the head off a vandal attempting to use cloaking tech to cross the gap of open space between the forest and the outpost building.

“Finian?” He responded, not lowering his gun as he peered down the sights for any others that had been running with the Vandal. He swallowed his emotions at the name, or at least mostly. His mind was preoccupied by a dozen other things, too many to figure out what Finian’s post was that warranted his interaction with the evacuation team. Edon didn’t want him anywhere near his squadron.

“His squadron is on the wall tonight. He’s leading the unit coming to get Cahira.” Severin told him, just as calm as Edon was trying to be, though there was urgency in his tone. “He’s trying to come around from Bravo, but he got blocked halfway.”

Edon had posted Bravo at the northern edge of the western outpost. Cahira could die and Finian wouldn’t even risk dodging a few Fallen to get to her.

“Relay it to Amaya.” He told his Ghost. “We’ll have to send someone to bring Cahira to him.”

“Already done.” His Ghost promised. “She offered to take Cahira herself. She’s asking for your approval.”

“Done.” He answered quickly, just as he spotted a second Vandal and killed them in one shot. “Tell her to take one of the light sparrows and I’ll have Finian meet up with her on the wall side of the rise behind Delta.”

He waited a few moments for his Ghost to relay the information, grunting as an explosion shook the building, nearly causing him to topple off the roof on which he was perched. Below him, the squad was already firing towards where the explosion had come from in response.

“Connect me to Finian’s coms.” He instructed before the shaking had even stopped. Though he could feel the slight hesitation within his Ghost, Severin did as he asked without complaint. He forced a calming breath down his throat and into his lungs as the earpieces in his helmet clicked, telling him the coms were connected.

“Finian, it’s Edon.” He began, anger already swelling to the surface. His light was heating up his bones, practically begging for a fight.

“Edon, I-“ The other man already sounded worried. It only made him want to throttle him more, though he wasn’t sure the urge would be any less present even if he didn’t sound worried. “I’m at building 405. The Fallen have us pinned down. There’s no opening for me to get any closer.”

“Amaya is with Cahira, they’re on their way to you, take the back way towards 404, they’ll meet you on the wall side of the rise behind the building.” He told the other man, aiming his gun back down at the line of trees when the need to fight swelled up within his chest. What he wanted was to punch a Fallen so hard he killed the thing with just his fist, but getting that close meant leaving the outpost building exposed, and he wasn’t about to put anyone in danger because of his own issues.

“Roger that,” Finian responded, already sounding a little less stressed. “Heading there now, out.”

“Finian, wait.” He spoke up quickly, before the other man could cut the coms connection. He struggled in a deep breath before speaking, but anger pushed past his nerves. “I heard what you told everyone at the meeting this morning.”

Only silence responded from the other line, but he knew the man was listening.

“My troops come first. Always.” He was snarling now, solar light practically burning though his body. “If you hesitate for one second at getting Cahira to the hospital, if you put her in danger for one instant, I will tear your throat out. Do you understand me?”

More silence.

“Edon, this morning-“ Finian stammered and Edon nearly exploded. “I didn’t want to-“

“Do you understand me?” He cut off the man’s words before he went on, because he didn’t even want to know what he’d been about to say. He didn’t want to hear a single word of it.

There was a heavy pause, then a deep breath. “I understand. I’ll make sure she gets to the Tower safe.”

“Good.” Edon answered, “Out.”

He clicked off the coms without another word, sinking back down to kneel at the edge of the rooftop, raising his gun in his hands once more.

If Finian could get Cahira to safety, then he’d let him, but he would rather anyone, _anyone_ else be the one bringing her to the Tower. He’d respected Finian, he’d thought he was an honorable soldier and a good leader, but now? If Finian was willing to do what he’d done, no matter the reason, really, he didn’t want him anywhere near his troops, and certainly not when they were as injured as Cahira was. But at least Amaya would be there to hand her off, would likely give him the same threat Edon had, or worse. He’d always believed Amaya to be more intimidating than he was.

But that didn’t matter now. He had to trust that Amaya and Cahira would both be fine without him. It was out of his hands now, whether he liked it or not.

“Sarid,” He said once his Ghost had connected him back to the Echo coms. “I’d like to make an assault. Can you spare a couple fighters to cover me?”

“Yessir.” The squad leader responded. Then a moment later; “I’ve got two on their way. Standby.”

“Thanks.” He answered, setting his sniper rifle aside to draw an auto rifle. Expecting close contact, he had his Ghost send his sword to his back, and he felt its weight settle over him before he took up the auto rifle. He loaded it, then checked to ensure the sidearm at his thigh was loaded, replacing the auto rifle on his back and the sidearm to its holster when the two fighters arrived and he helped them up onto the roof.

Sarid had sent one titan and one militia fighter, the militia fighter being the best sniper in their entire squadron and perhaps the entire Order, a woman named Ella. They each gave him a nod of thanks as he helped them up onto the roof, and he waited for them to load their guns as he stepped towards the ledge. Once they’d joined him there, guns aimed at the front, he set a foot on the ledge, holding his auto rifle one hand to enable him to point towards the edge of the forest.

“My guess is they’re grouped in the forest here.” He told them, pointing towards a spot ahead of them and to their right just slightly. “There’s an entrance to a set of caves about a mile into the forest down that way. They’re not huge but they’d hold a decent number of troops. I suspect that’s where they’re all coming from. And that’s probably where they’re keeping their explosives.”

“I’m going to rush the entrance. Hopefully I’ll be able to detonate them before they use them against us.” He finished, just as a rocket propelled grenade slammed into the shielded front of the building, the shield distributing the blow over the whole building and making it shake. It was more of a shudder than the tremor felt when the shields were functioning properly. “Because we can’t take too many more hits like that.”

The other two nodded, the militawoman bracing a hand on the other Titan’s arm as the explosion threatened to knock them off their feet.

“Good luck, Sir.” The woman told him, and he gave her a nod of thanks. “We’ll cover you as best we can.”

As the shaking stopped, they took up their positions with Edon at the edge of the roof, and checking over his gun one last time, Edon leapt from the building and charged into the fray.

  
  


At least the fire was doing some good. The Fallen had taken up a position in front of and to the right of the building, tucked within the forest, however, the fire had not yet stopped spreading. It gave them some light to see by, and the winds were working in their favor, blowing the smoke and embers towards the Fallen attempting to use the forest for cover, forcing them to move away from the outpost, north, or to flee west back the way they’d come. Or, as some were trying, to rush forward out of the cover of the trees and meet the rain of bullets Echo was sending at them from the outpost. 

Knowing a similar fate would befall him if he charged the fray without backup, he radioed the whole squad to instruct them to lay down covering fire, and he ran through the torrent of bullets as he charged for the trees, his light aglow around his body as he charged. He tore across the snowy earth, running as fast as he could manage towards the fallen. A hammer was in his hands just as the fallen made it into his range, and he poured his light into it as he flung it into the first group of fallen he saw.

Edon slaughtered his way into the forest. He kept his light as reigned in as best he could, not wanting to start another fire, but used his hammers to tear through the groups of fallen racing towards him, all pouring out in the direction of the caves he’d suspected they’d been after. 

He slaughtered his way to them, the Fallen scattering under his attacks as he went. By the time he made it to the caves, the battle had spread to move behind him, and he entered the caves that had since gone silent. He spotted the explosives nearly as soon as he entered, tucked back into a corner of one of the caverns that opened up just off of the entrance. But they were unguarded, and the caves were...empty. Something wasn’t right.

“Amaya, Sarid,” He spoke into his coms, eyeing the explosives. “I’m in the caves, but the whole place looks deserted. I’m going to investigate. Are you all alright back there? Has Finian gotten Cahira yet?”

What met him was only static, and he frowned to his Ghost, not even making out a hint of language to the noise. 

“Something down here must be jamming our coms.” Severin told him. The caves were a good bit away from their base, maybe a mile. It was possible that their coms could be jammed here without them noticing it on the front, or, the Fallen had expected him to come, and they knew he was here. 

His heart beat a little faster, but he descended into the caverns at a run, darting from cave to cave. Each one was as empty as the last, not even a hint of life to them, no evidence that the Fallen had been camping out here. Nothing was present in any of the rooms, not even the remains of an old fire, or any type of waste or trash they might leave behind. He’d made it into the last room before he heard a faint beeping, but he hardly processed it. Ahead of him, hung on the wall was the largest House banner he’d ever seen, the sigil for the House of Devils painted boldly upon it in white paint, the banner so red it reminded him of Cahira’s blood. Still, the banner was old, charred as if it had been burnt, torn and tattered by blades or Fallen claws. He didn’t have time to think about it. The House of Devils was gone, replaced by the House of Dusk, but it was the last thing he saw before the beeping progressed to rapid, and an explosion brought the whole cavern down upon him. 

  
  
  


When he was revived again, he clawed his way from the rubble the same way he’d had to claw himself out of a mass grave after his first resurrection. He breathed in the silence for a moment, before his coms clicked in his ear and shouting filled his helmet.

“Edon? Come in, Edon!” Amaya was shouting, gunshots present in the background of her audio. “Sarid, where is he? Why isn’t he responding?”

“He went to assault the Fallen caves. We lost contact with him after he left the base. There was an explosion in the forest, everything is burning. I don’t know where he is.” The squad leader responded, sounding scrambled as he rattled off the information to Amaya. 

It was true everything was burning. The explosion must’ve cleared all the trees from around him, but he was caught in a visible ring of fire, trees burning and crumbling just beyond where the explosion had already torn through. Wind was sending ash in his direction, and he could tell it was only proving to spread the fire more. If the Fallen didn’t kill them, the smoke would.

“Do you think the Fallen have him? Could they have killed him?” Amya demanded over the coms.

“I don’t--” He broke off sharply. “Over there! Focus your fire!” He shouted suddenly, then spoke to Amaya once more. “I _don’t know,_ Amaya. I don’t know where he is.”

“The Fallen weren’t in the caves.” Edon rasped, activating his coms before he spoke. “They must’ve been jamming out communications.”

He pushed himself to his feet, carefully picking his way out of the heap of rubble he was caught in.

“Edon!” Amaya exclaimed. “Thank the Traveler!”

“Glad to hear you’re alright, sir.” Sarid told him. “But what do you mean the Fallen weren’t in the caves? There’s nothing more that way that they could be coming from.”

“I mean they weren’t there. The whole place was deserted, nothing but a House banner and a bunch of explosives.” He told them. He needed to get away from all this rubble. If there was any possibility that not all of the explosives had gone off at once...he didn’t want to be around to find out.

“No other weapons or supplies?” Sarid pressed.

“Nothing.” He confirmed. “Not even ash from a fire. But they wanted us to come there. I think they jammed our coms so I couldn’t contact you both to tell you the situation. I’m just hoping this isn’t a diversion for something. Amaya, radio the other squads to figure out their status. I’m going to message Zavala.”

“Right away.” Amaya confirmed.

“Anything you want me to do, sir?” Sarid asked him. There were still gunshots and yelling in the background of his audio feed.

“Just hold the line, Sarid, I’ll be back with you as soon as I can.” He told the squad leader. “I assume Amaya got Cahira to Finian alright?”

“Yes, sir. They arrived back at the Tower a few minutes ago.” The other man answered, and he nodded to himself.

“Good. Are all your militia alright?” He followed up. The militia were the most of his worries at this point. Fighting late at night when they were already exhausted and far from their best was a recipe for disaster. He prayed they’d all make it through the night unharmed.

“So far no injuries, sir.” Sarid promised.

“That’s good to hear. Good work, Sarid. I’ll see you in a bit. Out.”

He waited a moment or two before disconnecting his coms just to make sure Sarid had nothing else for him, then turned his coms to the squadron wide feed, listening for all the squad leaders in case of any further emergency. He’d made it out of the rubble and had relayed everything he knew of the situation to Zavala before Amaya pinged him on his personal channel.

“Amaya,” he greeted once he’d switched over to it. “What’s the word from the other squads?”

“The contact at buildings two, four, and five have all been managed and Sarid, the rest of the squad and I are managing pretty well here. Unfortunately, Alpha isn’t responding. The only thing I can get on their channel is static.” She informed him. The background noise from her coms was already quieting.

Edon frowned, eyeing the ring of fire before him as he tried to pick the best path through it. 

“Try to contact them on another channel. The Fallen could be jamming their coms, though. We might have to send someone over.” He told her. 

“Copy that.” She responded, “I’ll see what I can do.”

By the time he’d made it back to the center building on the front and had met Amaya and Sarid in the command center, they’d still received no word from Alpha squad. Edon was starting to worry.

“Have Hida send two Titans over from Charlie.” He told Amaya once they’d gathered in the command center, naming the squad leader of Charlie squad. “For now, I just want to know that they’re alright. We’ll worry about reestablishing the connection after we know they’re safe. If we don’t hear back from them in thirty minutes, we send in backup.” 

Amaya nodded, leaving him and Sarid at the back of the room while she stepped up to the front of it. She braced a hand on the desk while the militiaman seated there tuned the radio to the correct frequency. Edon turned back to look at Sarid, crossing his arms and letting out a little frustrated sigh. 

“This isn’t normal for the Fallen.” He thought aloud, Sarid grunting in agreement. “I’m going to radio the other squadrons, let them know to be on high alert.”

“You don’t think they’re planning something big, do you?” Sarid asked him, glancing out the windows ahead of them to look towards the front. 

“I don’t know.” Edon confessed, but there was worry coiled in his gut. “I think it’s likely. I’ve never seen them this organized. We fought hard, but it still felt like it was too easy.” He shook his head. “All I know is, I have a bad feeling about this.”

Sarid nodded in agreement. “As do I.” 

Edon glanced around the room again. Most of the squad was inside, the four militia members either working at the desks at the front of the room, monitoring the front, or standing at the windows. The sniper he’d spoken to earlier, Ella, stood in the concrete section in front of the room, her gun set in the slit in the wall, surveying the front through her scope. Of the rest of the squad, Edon knew Sarid’s second was outside with two of the Titans, the other two stood with the militia sniper. He could see one of them was glowing just faintly from solar light, standing close to her to stave off the cold.

“Try to get the militia to rest.” He told Sarid. “Who knows if they’ll actually listen, but I have a feeling they’re going to need it soon, and we should be taking all the downtime we can get. If you can spare any Titans, have them rest, too. And radio the other squads to do the same.” He told the squad leader, who nodded in understanding. “I’ll contact the other squadrons, see if we can get a little backup.”

Sarid nodded, and Edon squeezed his shoulder before departing from the room. He ducked into the empty meeting room before he had Severin turn on his coms, recording a message for all of the squadron leader’s and their seconds. He described the situation as best he could, the sparrow crash, then the Fallen’s response, the attacks on each of the buildings, the explosion in the caves, the signal being jammed from Alpha. All of it felt too organized, too structured, and he warned as much in his message. If another attack was coming, they had to be ready for it, the whole front.

He’d only just sent the message moments ago when Eurman pinged him on his coms, and he quickly switched over to speak with the other man.

“Edon, are you alright?” The other Titan’s voice came through his radio. “I just got your message. Sounds like you’re going through hell out there.”

“We are.” Edon confirmed. “Or at least I have a feeling we will be. My troops are already exhausted, but I have a bad feeling that the Fallen are going to hit us again. If you can spare any troops to send over, we could definitely use the help.”

On the other line, he heard the man let out a little sigh. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. We’re stretched thin as it is. A chunk of the 92nd got pulled a few days ago to go assist in the field. I sent some of my troops over to fill the holes, but we’re all stretched thin up here. If you really need it, I might be able to send some of the 57th out to you. They’ll be taking your place on the day shift but they should be well rested at this point. Tarakash’s troops won’t be much better than you all of course.”

Edon listened as he thought aloud, footsteps audible over the coms enough to show he was pacing, likely in his office on the Wall, as Eurman’s squadron was still holding the night shift, and would be posted there for the rest of the week. The 57th was Lyra’s squadron, they should’ve been out here already, and Edon was seriously considering requesting to Zavala that he and Amaya stay out on the front while the rest of the 101st rotated in to take the 57th’s place on the wall, while the 57th rotated out with him and Amaya to command it. As the third highest in their chain of command, Sarid could lead the troops on the wall perfectly well without him or Amaya, it wasn’t as though he hadn’t done it before. The troops would be safer that way, and even if Edon was commanding a different squadron for a little while, it wasn’t something he hadn’t done before. The squadrons knew each other well, commanders could often shift with little difficulty when needed, though it was rarely needed for full rotations. Still, it was the approval that he was worried about. Shifting squadrons on the front always came with risk, and he wasn’t sure which one Zavala would choose given the current scenario. He dragged his mind back to the present.

“Anyone you can send me would be appreciated.” He told Eurman. “As far as I know, we’ve hit a lull in the fighting for now. We don’t have contact with one of our squads but I’m hoping it’s just the signal being jammed and that we’ll be able to resolve the issue in due time.”

“Let me know if that changes. At the very least I might be able to advise a few of the other Orders to send troops your way.” Eurman told him. When the Stoneborn were running especially low on troops, or when important events occurred or known attacks were anticipated, they fell back on ties and pacts with other Titan Orders of the City. Being the most senior of the Squadron commanders, Eurman knew these Orders well, and was frequently in contact with them when things went haywire on the front. If he could get them to aid Edon and his troops...it was almost a best case scenario, because it meant they weren’t forced to leave holes in their own defenses.

“That’d be great, Eurman, thanks.” Edon told him, opening his mouth to speak more only for his attention to be torn as Amaya poked her head into the door, her face pinched with worry and frustration. “Listen, I’ve got to go. Send whoever you can. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Will do. Out.” The other man responded, and Edon disconnected his coms, turning to face his second.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, stepping towards her as she let go of the door and stepped back. 

“Alpha’s still being attacked. One of the guys from Charlie ran back to radio us, and a minute ago they were able to take down the jammer. They have wounded, and they’re being hit hard. We need to send backup to them now. I’ve already got Aura and Dex ready to go, and I can go with them.” She named two Titans from Echo squad, and he nodded in confirmation.

“Go. Radio me if you need more backup. Eurman is trying to get some more troops our way, too.” He told her, “Be safe, good luck.” 

She was off in moments, and he was back in the command center in time to hear the hum of their sparrows as she and the others zipped away, towards the south. 

  
  
  


Edon paced the whole time she was gone. He and Sarid sent the rest of the squad to rest, Sarid taking the command center, monitoring the front from the screens and windows within, while Edon took the roof, pacing as he watched the front from above. They stayed on coms the whole time, listened through the feed from Amaya’s helmet the whole battle. It was brutal, two of the militia from alpha were injured in the battle or before, and the fighting wasn’t over until after 4:30 in the morning, with the medical evacuation team not arriving at the front until five. Eurman led the team this time, and for that Edon was grateful, even if he could only watch from afar and listen on the radio while the whole battle went down. 

Amaya came back with the two Titans a few minutes after Eurman left with the wounded, and the Titans that had been resting took over the post under Sarid’s second’s watch, leaving Sarid, Amaya and Edon to rest. Unfortunately, Edon wasn’t nearly done with all the logistical things that came with cleaning up after a battle, and Amaya couldn’t sleep knowing he was still working. She joined him in the empty meeting room, finding him pacing back and forth before the wallscreen. On it, she could see he was assembling a data table, death counts from each of the Titans in the squadron, and a list of the militia that had been injured and what their injuries had been. He was getting specific, down to minor cuts or abrasions. Her stomach flipped in worry. For him, for the squadron, for the front. If everything she was still processing from the battle didn’t keep her up when she eventually found her bed, her worries certainly would. 

His eyes cut to her after moments of standing in the doorway, and his Ghost spun to follow his gaze, the little machine giving her a nod.

“What are you doing up?” He asked her, as if she hadn’t just arrived back at the building mere moments ago. There was still adrenaline humming through her veins. “You should be sleeping.”

She shook her head, moving further into the room to look at the wallscreen, though she was mindful enough to shut the door behind her. With the rest of the squad trying to sleep, she didn’t want to keep them up with the sounds of their conversation. 

“Can’t sleep.” She told him simply, offering him a little shrug. She was truthfully exhausted, but after the battle, she was awake and alert. The sounds of shouts and screams still bounced around her head. She wished she could’ve gone for a walk without potentially engaging the Fallen again. She pushed the thoughts from her head. They would do her no good. “What are you working on?”

“Zavala asked for a damage report.” He told her. “Severin and I have been compiling information from the squad leaders on the death counts of the squadron.” He shook his head, coming to stand still beside her as his eyes swept over the numbers. “It’s bad.” 

She stepped up to the wallscreen and tapped the empty space beside her number, S2, for Sierra #02, her and Edon’s little squad of two, the S standing for staff. She entered in her number of deaths and Edon swore.

“Nineteen.” He breathed, then shook his head, stepping up beside her and entering in his own. Thirteen, but given that she’d been running back and forth across the front the whole night while he’d stayed fairly close to the center building, his count really wasn’t much better than hers. 

She stepped back to survey the screen, as usual, their counts were the worst of the squadron’s. It was their shared, unspoken belief in sacrificing more than the rest of the team. The burden of leadership that they both shouldered. Three of Amaya’s deaths had been from blocking Cahira from harm with her body. The rest were bleeding together in her mind, but she’d known they’d been similar. The only reason why she had a number to give him was because her Ghost could keep track of the deaths, could separate them from one another in her mind even when Amaya couldn’t. She knew Edon was likely in the same boat.

Unfortunately, the rest of the squadron wasn’t well off, either. Seven of the thirty Titan’s death counts were in the double digits, with the rest of them not far behind. Alpha’s counts were the worst, and the squad was now missing three of their militia fighters due to injury. Amaya prayed they’d be alright, that the Traveler would protect them. Out of the whole squadron, there was only a single Titan that hadn’t died in the battle, Einar-5, the exo leader of Delta squad. If she remembered correctly, their battle had been the first managed and likely the one with the least hostiles, most of the Fallen near them focusing their assault on the center, where Edon had been with Echo squad. 

It didn’t bode well for them. The squadron had never taken losses like this, at least not while she’d been a part of it. In fact, no squadron she’d ever been a part of had taken losses like this, and the 101st was filled with the best fighters she’d ever met. If they were taking losses like this, it meant something was wrong, very wrong. She’d already known that of course, but she had a bad feeling things were only going to get worse.

“After I send the report, I’m going to ask Zavala to call us back to the wall.” Edon told her, his arms crossed as he looked to the screen. There were deep bags under his eyes, cuts and bruises visible on his face and neck, all that his Ghost hadn’t worried enough to heal. She knew she was only in worse shape, her whole body aching from injuries below her armor. She’d had her Ghost only heal some of them, wanting to conserve whatever Light she could. She’d have to tend to some of her injuries before she went to bed, would have to shower to get the blood off of her--both Cahira’s and her own--and would have to patch up any open wounds she had hidden below her armor. Even if her exhaustion had yet to hit with her adrenaline staving it off, it felt like an impossible task already.

She considered Edon’s request with a hand on her hip, her fingers pressing lightly on a bruise she’d earned when she’d fallen from her sparrow heading to the battle at Alpha. The Fallen had blown the machine up right underneath her. She couldn’t believe that hadn’t been a contributor to her death count. 

“Well,” She began, looking over the civilian injuries listed in the lower portion of the table. “If this doesn’t convince him, we’ll know we’re in deeper water than we thought.”

Edon nodded in agreement, then drew in a sharp breath as if preparing for something. She glanced back to him to find a data tablet in his hand, and watched as he dragged the table from the wallscreen to the tablet, then tapped on it for a few moments. 

“Okay.” He breathed. “Damage report is sent. Requesting post transfer.” He set the tablet on the table behind him to type on it with both hands, then sent the second message. She peered over his shoulder as he worked, straightening up when he lifted the tablet back into his hands and they watched the log for painful moments, awaiting Zavala’s response. 

She barely had time to read the response before Edon cursed sharply, tossing the tablet roughly onto the table and stepping away from it, his hands knotting in his hair.

“Traveler above.” He hissed, and she peered over the screen on to read it over again, watching a second message appear below it.

C.ZAV: REQUEST DENIED. 0544

C.ZAV: DAMAGE REPORT RECEIVED. 0544

She let out a long sigh, a hand braced on the table while she watched Edon pace the room. 

“That’s it. I’m going to bed.” He told her. “This is the worst day of my life.”

She honestly wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, but she didn’t have the energy for it either way, watching him with a flat stare.

“I swear if you jinx us and make this worse, I will kill you.” She told him, and he kicked a chair roughly out from under the table.

“Just fucking do it. It would be better than this.” Emotion entered his voice suddenly as he sat down in the chair, hunching over his legs, his hands wrapping tight in his hair again. She heard him suck in a shaking breath. 

“Go to bed, Edon. You’re going to crash if you keep going like this.” She felt bad for him, she truly did, but they’d both been awake for far too long to be trying to solve problems. 

“I _am_ crashing.” He breathed, his voice almost a whine. She could tell from the tightness of his voice that he was holding back tears. She drew in a breath and walked over to him, lifting her right foot and stepping on his greaves. They were completely enforced with metal, strong enough that she doubted he’d even feel it if she put her full weight onto his foot, but she tapped her toe on the boot a few times, and after a few long seconds, he sat up and lifted his head to look at her.

“Go to bed.” She told him again. “I’m going to take a shower, but you’d better be asleep by the time I’m done, alright?”

He sighed deeply, calmingly, but nodded, and she stepped back, offering him her hand. He let her pull him to his feet, turned off the wallscreen with a touch, and together they headed towards their quarters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual thanks for reading! As I mentioned at the beginning of the chapter, I'm going to be posting something soon that isn't a chapter but is part of the story and will help you understand it so look forward to that! Sorry that's so vague.
> 
> Comments and kudos give me life, but I also have a question for you all. How do you feel about the chapter length I've been doing here? Are they too long? What are your thoughts?


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